So God ansa, “Bikos of di wiked tins wey dem don do to pipol wey nor get help and di pains wey poor pipol dey face, I go do sometin; I go fight for dem, bikos na so dem wont make I do since.”
But with evritin wey I tok, una plant wikedness kon harvest wetin una plant. Una don chop di fruit wey una lie-lie kause. Bikos una trust una shariot and di many sojas wey una get,
So e nor sopraiz us sey, en savants dey pritend too like sey dem bi savant wey dey do wetin good for God eye. For di end, dem go gain wetin fit di tins wey dem dey do.
To doz wey don lost, e bi like sometin wey dey kill; but for doz wey Christ don save, e bi like smell wey dey give life. So, who go fit handle all dis tins?