Its not written in the bumper
They call it a Greater number
From the slums to the high hills.
The Big and the Commander it gets in them,
Alot of Dead game and none to Blame
Its a Temper to the down, Stone to the Town
Carries lot of Gun, Never them turn.
They Plan, A World Plan, Number two and seven.
Wish u've gone, Do not ask me again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem