“Eh you! Da guy dat make argue wit me! Me, Da God Dat Get All Da Powa! You stay tell me I wrong, o wat?! You da one dat poin finga me! I like you ansa me!”
No matta I neva do notting wrong, Wateva I tell, goin soun jalike I wen do someting wrong. Even if I no mo blame, wat I tell goin soun jalike I one crook.
Cuz all aroun me Get peopo do bad kine stuff, Mo plenny den I can figga. Da bad kine stuff catch up wit me. I no can see good! I get choke plenny trouble, Mo plenny Den da hairs on top my head. I like be strong, But no can!
Eh, how come you talk back lidat to God, braddah? Who you tink you? Jalike da Bible tell befo time: “If get one guy dat make someting, dat ting no can tell da guy, ‘Eh! How come you wen make me lidis?’ ”