" Roots"

Power

P.Dicey

Am coming back stronger like Iron Mike Tyson
The more I get older, feeling like Samson
Hold the game tight like a vice on a folder
Fold ma fist tight and deliver that Gboza
To ma critics, ma music is a black out
We sell tickets till the whole game pass out
On a mission so I make a big shout out
To ma brothers and sisters on the struggle
It’s been a long time they got us on the double
We always on the line with rape and genocide
Am giving punchline to free the slave lines
They selling out but it’s time for liberation
We going out mass rapping on redemption
Play the song loud salute the Black Nation
We never fall out with boots on attention
Always in the bush with roots medication.

Kissez

Sevyn Streeter

Kiss from my roots
Kiss on your belly when you tip on your toe (Yeah, kisses on you)
When kiss on your belly
Kiss from my roots
Kiss on your belly when you tip on your toe
When I kiss on your belly (Kisses on you)
Kiss from my roots (Ooo)
I go be your bomba
Kiss from my roots (Kisses on you)
Kiss from my roots
Kiss from my roots (Kiss on you baby, kisses on you)
Kiss from my roots
I go be your don baba
Ooh woah, ooh woah, ooh woah
Ooh woah, ooh woah

The Other Side

Lucky Dube

His name is Themba
He lives in Soweto
Every morning he goes to the airport to watch the planes come and go
He has changed his African name to a western one
Cause he doesn't know how it hurts to have a name
You can't be proud of. He hopes that one day
One of these birds of the sky can take him away
To a very very far land
Running away from the very roots
That so many black people in the world
Are wanting to come back to. A place they call home
They wish they were home
They wish they were in Africa
They wish they were in Africa
I live in his world, I've seen the other world
I got nothing to say
I put my coat on my shoulders
As I walked away, I heard myself sing

Bosi Gbangba

eLDee the Don

trybe records... El dee imma take y'all to the roots on this one

We Made It

eLDee the Don

Then it was Trybesmen shake bodi, couldn't really make money
But we made some hits though, brothers had a sick flow
Sold tapes outta my trunk, couldn't get a slam dunk
No distribution, we were getting punked

Trips to Alaba tryna have it all make sense
Aaw men, that was intense
I created the paper-pack to make some paper back
Cos I figured it would work tryna get us on the map
Soon enough brothers had to go their own way
Everybody steady tryna make their own pay
It was his fault, yeah that's what they're gon' say
But God knows best, so I don't stress
Moving on I took a trip to Atlanta, to figure how to lace my bread with some planta
And yeah I aced that, but then I got bored
Right guy in the wrong place, on the wrong board
I figured I should follow my dreams and go back to my roots, go back to my truth
If I could do it all again, it'd be the same thing, run it back, no regrets, do the same thing