“If I confront you in the afternoon,
By evening, I will teach you a lesson.
Yes, you will suffer and cry in seething,
You will scream like a demon.
After all, you are not Arabs,
Let the enemies die of seething.
We are the ones who rule this land,
We do not wait for anyone else.
We gather in whichever part we want,
We will dance Dhaanto and Saar.
Let me make clear who I am.
We impose taxes on our enemies.
We punish them and fill them with resentment.
We subjugate and humiliate them.”
Please don’t beat me, massa.