See the piety with naked eyes.
See the blood tempered by Buddhist doctrine
Rise, run, toss, topple, hit, reject VISA,
Apparently, in the name of Buddhism.
A white-skinned black-bikinied blonde
And a 0.1 second shot of a Buddha by a pond.
Were you, like, looking all around?
Were you, like startled out of your sleep
And, like, wondering what the bleep?
Yesterday — you were to come here, rapper. Today,
You are banned substance. Like the stuffs, they say, you carry.
Just to say, in case you may
Read this, still undone by our Buddhist Piety,
That this country’s run by a few:
A very few. Who valourize fetishes. Ride on hypocrisy.
Ban newspaper ads to suit the democracy.
That, Akon, even if you drink tea on the lap of that statue,
I have no problem cos that is your culture.
Your culture’s relative, you rap fugitive,
Your stuff, to me, is, too, the same.
Sri Lankans who are, like, normal absolve you of blame.
Those buses, Akon, was brought from Kelaniya, they say:
The buses that transported the Buddhist-like clubs.
They hit the MBC flat, took Buddha to town,
Before the police came on scene flapping their gown.
Everyone wanted an inquest, everyone promised deep probe.