Why don't you come to my roomnHad enough of being fucked by businessnAin't enough to fund my habitsnLooks like alcohol so grab itnnHad enough of being uncoolnLoosen up like all the folks donLike a lumberjack in my eyesnHave a bottle or two tonightnnAnd oh, oh, be a dreadlock of the suburbsnAnd oh, oh, be a dreadlock of the suburbsnnSome peyote and ferascasnAnd a new Havana philosophynI don't know too much about himnHe knows how to make it never-endingnnWith a stash that's supremonHe's got any colors goingnI took out an ad in High TimesnGot to keep up with the new worldnnBecause oh, oh, I'm a dreadlock of the suburbsnAnd oh, oh, I'm a dreadlock of the suburbsnAnd oh, oh, I'm a dreadlock of the suburbsnBecause oh, oh, I'm a RastafariannnForget your social statusnListen up misfitnWe can be so highnWhere you can't say a wordnBecause we're so cool, we're someonennOkay, there it is, listen upnnLooking through all my picturesnEspecially in the SouthnGot a stake in the promised landnUntil my Daddy strikes the goldnnAnd oh, oh, be a dreadlock of the suburbsnAnd oh, oh, be a dreadlock of the suburbsnAnd oh, oh, time for the dreadlocks of the suburbsn'Cause oh, oh, I want to hold you right nownnThe more things change, the more they stay the same [x4] n