Back to the Roots - Atili Bandalero & Joseph Cotton

This is a special shout going out to my mama, Ms. Ernestine Charles Mama used to do people hair in the kitchen Press and curl, hot curlers, everything I love you mama Black hair is (a revolution) Cornrows (uh-uh, honey, I am tender-headed) Jheri curls (style sophistication) Afro puff (ah-ooh, ah-ooh) Hair weave (call her Miss Ross) Braids (pride, respect) Extensions (more of a 90s fashion) Asymmetrical shroom (banji girl) I'm going back, back, black to my roots Where my love can be found and my heart rings true I'm going back, back, black to my roots To the time and the place, coming back to you I'm going back, back, black to my roots Where my love can be found and my heart rings true I'm going back, back, black to my roots To the time and the place, coming back to you Black hair is (a revolution) Finger wave (a classic extravaganza) Press and curl (never mix, never worry) Flat top fade (very contemporary) Nail sculpture (urban distinction) Hot comb (ouch, mama, that was my ear!) Blow out kits (ooh, ooh tamba) No-lye relaxer (fried dyed and laid to the side) I'm going back, back, black to my roots Where my love can be found and my heart rings true I'm going back, back, black to my roots To the time and the place, coming back to you I'm going back, back, black to my roots Where my love can be found and my heart rings true I'm going back, back, black to my roots To the time and the place, coming back to you Black hair is... Now mama got her own salon down on Auburn Avenue And if you wanna know what's happening in Atlanta Just go to the salon That's to you and all y'all down there, brothers and sisters Miss Earlene, Lizzy Dean, Renetta Little baby boy, Tone Tone, Leonard, K-Ron, Cornisha Peace my brothers and sisters Peace, love and hair grease A revolution, a revolution A re- re-, a revolution I'm going back, back, black to my roots Where my love can be found and my heart rings true I'm going back, back, black to my roots To the time and the place, coming back to you I'm going back, back, black to my roots Where my love can be found and my heart rings true I'm going back, back, black to my roots To the time and the place, coming back to you Black hair is...

Wie lange habt ihr gewartet auf ein paar Typen Die komm'n, um kurzen Prozess zu machen? Unsre Raps sind keine Schreckschusswaffen Das sind echte Knarren Rap-Piccasso, ich zeichne Gemälde nur mit echtem Wappen Was kommt als Nächstes? Wollt ihr Ghettoplatten auf Techno packen? Droppe 16 Takte wie 16 Kugeln Metall Deine Frau wird in der Bude geknallt wie von Arturo Vidal PA Superbrain, mixe die Nugatcreme mit dem Puder, Bre Ihr macht kein'n echten Rap, sondern Mucke für Kinderpubertät Flow' zu dope am Mic, ich bin schonungslos zur Zeit Hatte viel zu lang ein gutes Herz, doch Romeo must die Zieh' die verchromte Fortyfive und mach' Promo wie Iron Mike Unser Logo ist eingefleischt, komm' in Slomo wie Michael Knight Die Desperado-Saga geht brutaler weiter als erwartet Noch ein Jahr mit eurer Sparte und ich wander' aus nach Compton Halt die Fresse, wenn der Daddy rappt Ich resete das Rapgeschäft Denn diese beiden Typen hier sind classic wie der NES Tz, alle woll'n rappen und gerne Star sein Doch wenn wir uns vergessen, dann seh'n wir gar kein'n Wir sind auf einem anderern Level seit Tag eins Halt deine Fresse, mach die Bahn frei Wir sind wieder back to the roots (wouh, wouh) Guck, es wird Zeit für die echten Beats Dicka, wir sind wieder back to the roots (wouh, wouh) Und wenn wir komm'n, seid ihr rest in peace Wir sind wieder back to the roots, so wie Wu-Tang Jeder unsrer Sechzehner boomt, Hadouken Hatten eine heftige Schulung im Bootcamp Was willst du denn? Hier fliegen Kugeln Headbanger, dein Kopf wackelt, wer stoppt das hier? Schockt alle mit Shotgunkugeln aus einer Schrottkarre Cops flattern im Helikopter über die Blocks Drücke die NOS-Taste, check den Kontrast, Dicka, Bombastikum Lass uns alles kaputt machen Der Song fackelt Molotow-Cocktails aus Château-Mouton-Flaschen Desperadoz, komme mit Goldknarre, verfolg' alle Werde keine einzige Ratte von euch entkomm'n lassen Meister Lu Fong-Taktik, bevor ich meine Soloplatte In die Promophase schick', sind alle meine Moves Asse Meine Flotte bombt alles frontal, kommt alle Wenn ich rappe, bildet sich um mein'n Körper Betonmasse Sprengstoff basteln, die Bombe zündet im Postkasten Der SWAT-Kapitän bildet Squads mit Carbonmasken Leg dein Handy weg, wenn der Daddy rappt Ich resete das Rapgeschäft Jeder Rhythm wird vom General geeminemt Tz, alle woll'n rappen und gerne Star sein Doch wenn wir uns vergessen, dann seh'n wir gar kein'n Wir sind auf einem anderern Level seit Tag eins Halt deine Fresse, mach die Bahn frei Wir sind wieder back to the roots (wouh, wouh) Guck, es wird Zeit für die echten Beats Dicka, wir sind wieder back to the roots (wouh, wouh) Und wenn wir komm'n, seid ihr rest in peace Wir sind wieder back to the roots, so wie Wu-Tang Jeder unsrer Sechzehner boomt, Hadouken Hatten eine heftige Schulung im Bootcamp Was willst du denn? Hier fliegen Kugeln

Nous passerons toutes les nuits debout Toutes les journées à réfléchir à tout ça Et nous saurons nous passer de vous La rue résonne du son de nos voix Nous passerons toutes les nuits debout Toutes les journées à rebâtir tout ça Et nous saurons nous passer de vous Oh DJ remix Pump all de reggae, massive rave 'pon de hill Tell dem politicians, dem talking still They cyan't deal with nuttin' when Jah gon' give us de will People taking to the street 'cause they cyan't feel der bill Me speed up mi ting ah fling it over Brazil De odda time you know mi fling it down on de grill Fling it back an' now France from Bastille to Belleville If a Republican you nuh say a ting, he's gonna come Yuh know it's dangerous, for the people Lord have mercy, mon, wi nuh... Yeah Watch her, hey We already got a mind of wi own That mean we enter inna any zone Cyan stop eatin' dem der overgrown Pissed of all dey tricks, we come to de throne Cyan you nuh see dem mash up de ozone? People cyan't find food, now fi ruinin' all dem home Danakil pass me de microphone, me call you 'Cause I wanna mash up dem collarbone Take to de street, dey said take to de street Take to de streets, then we turn on de heat Dey come and said dem poor, grung get delayed Tell a all of dem how we got der grove change 'Pon the social media everybody dem a tweet Dey a nuh say we nuh move discreet Dem politician dem gon' get dey fate Nuttin' when dem nuh never complete We got da reggae music and we got de reggae beat Jump wit de people 'pon the street, yuh all gonna kill Bring on the reggae fans, dem 'pon de hill Tell de politicans dem talkin' still They cyan deal with nuttin' when Jah gon give us de will Like a snapper fish me said de red wine grill Let's fling up mi ting, ah fling it over Brazil De odda time you know me, fling it down on de grill Fling it back an' now France, à Bastille, la Bellleville We leave our republic caw we cyan't keep still No, no, no, no, no No, no, no, no We cyan't keep still Monster the second On sait danser Yeah go people, freedom Danakil on the dub kid, laissez danser Yeah, change is gonna come How wi all seh ODG In the community We need to take over the city Withotu a pity Remix Not fix Six Six Ya miss

Cuillère d'argent cuillère d'or J'survole le de-mon sur mon condor Tout en ze-bron 'as I would say Spliff de OG biche you know me Je pars pour sécher l'eau J'ai troqué ma place contre des yeuf Et quelque taffes sur des trajets de contrebande Sur des trajets de contrebande Demandes a Samsung si mes poches sont grandes Demandes a ces pussy qui me volent mes bandes Purple haze sur mon poil qui décante Sur des trajets de contrebande Demandes a Samsung si mes poches sont grandes Demandes a ces pussy qui me volent mes bandes Purple haze sur mon poil qui décante Sur des trajets de contrebande When mi step inna the club Hot gyal give me love Smoke weed inna blunt Drink lean inna cup yeaahhh When mi step inna the club Hot gyal give me love Smoke weed inna blunt Drink lean inna cup yeaahhh When mi step inna the club Hot gyal give me love Smoke weed inna blunt Drink lean inna cup yeaahhh When mi step inna the club Hot gyal give me love Smoke weed inna blunt Drink lean inna cup yeaahhh (I think I'm in love) Cuillère d'argent cuillère d'or J'survole le de-mon sur mon condor Tout en ze-bron 'as I would say Spliff de OG biche you know me Je pars pour sécher l'eau J'ai troqué ma place contre des yeuf Et quelque taffes sur des trajets de contrebande Sur des trajets de contrebande

Falling for the wrong one Feeling like the right time But at least I felt something Think I'm losing my mind I'm in need of your love I just need you right here Sharing all of those things Whispering in my ear Tell me what they can't know Show me what they can't see Tell me all the ideas They would never believe You see I remember my home I remember those trees I remember those pasts I remember the breeze I remember the reason why all of those people that passed Remember you opened your heart for a second Gave me your time for a minute Remember the tone in your voice when I Told you that I might be coming to visit But maybe I'm tripping You catching me slipping Down this road again But this time I ain't falling First day back cause the demons keep calling Look at this world and I start withdrawing And its so hard not to fade, see its so hard not to fall But I gotta find peace And I gotta find sleep cause I don't see it at all So I'm going, going, going, deeper and deeper You see I'm finding it out before my spirit gets weaker I got a fever, fever But feeling sick in the head I need a doctor, doctor Or just one more cigarette I'm saying Falling for the wrong one (I love you) Feeling like the right time (I love you) But at least I felt something Think I'm losing my mind If I die alone, then I probably deserve that You can tear your face up but don't act like you ain't earn that If I die alone, then I probably deserve that You can tear your face up but don't act like you ain't earn that If I die alone, then I probably deserve that You can tear your face up but don't act like you ain't earn that If I die alone, then I probably deserve that You can tear your face up but don't act like you ain't earn that Oh yeah she fine Soft from behind Like I'm running out of time Yeah she hurt your fucking feelings with that Ass of hers Dunno just to what I'm feeling with uh- Get on her How cannot tell I'm feeling its like- I'm in her World. living, breathing You know I'm not even Steven Cause I could not be Shia born in a house fire, damn Baby, where you do that I'ma little bit insane, yeah Put you on game, yeah Make you maintain, yeah Stare up in your lane, yeah Whatever you say, yeah Alway-always say yeah Rather see me dead, yeah Than see me in your bed yeah, yeah, yeah

Now ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to tell you Me and Teddy know what it's like to Well, to pick and plant cotton, chop cotton And pick cotton, we're cotton-pickers Along with pick-up drivers We drive pick-up trucks I mean, people drive a pick-up truck We didn't know the times were lean Round our house the grass was green It didn't seem like things were all that bad I bet we walked a thousand miles Choppin' cotton and pushing plows And learnin' how to give it all we had As life went on and years went by I saw the light in daddy's eye And felt the love in mamma's hands They kept us warm and kept us fed Taught us how to look ahead Now lookin' back I understand We were walkin' in high cotton Old times there are not forgotten Those fertile fields are never far away We were walkin' in high cotton Old times there are not forgotten Leavin' home was the hardest thing we ever faced When Sunday mornings rolled around We dressed up in hand-me-downs Just in time to gather with the church Sometimes I think how long it's been And how it impressed me then It was the only day my daddy wouldn't work We were walkin' in high cotton Old times there are not forgotten Those fertile fields are never far away We were walkin' in high cotton Old time there are not forgotten Leavin' home was the hardest thing we ever faced Everybody! Yeah, we were walkin' in high cotton Old times there are not forgotten Those fertile fields are never far away We were walkin' in high cotton Old times there are not forgotten Leavin' home was the hardest thing we ever faced Everybody sing it We were walkin' in high cotton Old times there are not forgotten Those fertile fields are never far away Yeah, we were walkin' in high cotton Old times there are not forgotten Leavin' home was the hardest thing we ever faced Walkin' in high cotton Thank you very much!