Di XOUND WEY UNDERSTAND

Текст песни

Burg City Records in Poetic Collaboration with tHE JB StUDiOs presents: Di XOUND WEY UNDERSTAND I. The Sovereign Acknowledgement: Di Juju Xound dey groove, Area shout, Black Rhythm abeg no go dey assume-doom. Di Juju Guitar string the loom, Thread the tune, make the room assume bloom. Mrs. Olololo no rush, no consume, Burn slow, burn steady, make the melody groom. Before you try to sing along, Learn the tongue, hold the drum, make the rhythm become. Zombie big boy wey no fit mount him guard, wey No fit stand firm for land, wey no fit sit-down small with squad underground. He take small style hush inside the room, Like na him be the lyric supplier, like na him own the sound — so wrong. VERSE — THE LOOM Make di Juju's Guitar string dey weave like thread, Every note na story wey I first hold very dear. Palm wine cup, moonlight overhead, Ancestor drum dey wake the dead. String the loom, tune the room, Bassline boom, make the gloom assume. Talking drum talk, highlife horn walk, Every beat na bridge, every chord na talk. Mrs. Olololo raise her voice, No be perfection, na choice. She sing the pain, she sing the pride, She sing the tide, she sing the side Wey carry the people through the night. Zombie big boy dey pose like king, But the room no dey move for ego thing. Juju Xound dey humble the floor, Na community rhythm open the door. VERSE — THE BLUEPRINT Blues no be sorrow wey dey end for pit, Na sorrow wey turn to power and wit. Suffery carry blueprint inside him chest, Turn hardship to harmony, struggle to test. Pressure press, but blessing bless, Small lesson turn to large success. Backyard reason, backyard season, Turn ham to treasure, turn pain to reason. Inside the rhythm, memory dey breathe, Inside the bassline, history dey move. Every string na bridge across the sea, Every drumbeat call the lineage free. No assume-doom, no surrender, just bloom soft, Sort di force, sort Di cause, Re-emboss with less-stress before the endorsement- Secure moment with dem Kaku Di Benson before you document. From small to something, From nothing to running, From humming to drumming, From struggling to stunning. Man sit-down for backyard reason, Inside one small lesson, I see plenty blessing Wey surround the pressure. Boosten the measure, Tidied with composure, Turn ham into historical treasure. No be luck, no be chance, Na discipline give the dance. No be noise, no be chance, Na purpose give the stance. VERSE — AREA TRUTH Waffi night, streetlight fight, Keke horn cut the quiet tight. Mama boil pot, papa count thought, Young boy dream the future hot. From Warri road to global mode, From heavy load to open road, From local code to worldwide show, Na the people make the rhythm grow. Di Juju Xound be like the bride wey hide him shine for night, make Di Xoulful Blues address the press like the main groom — Mrs. Olololo, sing am slow, Let the highlife horn begin to glow. Let the talking drum answer the guitar, Let the room remember who we are. The market woman sabi the mathematics of morning, The mechanic sabi the language of warning. The tailor sabi how to turn cloth to crown, The driver sabi how to carry the town. Every hand get hymn, every scar get rhyme, Every struggle get seed, every season get time. No belittle the process, no dey rush the climb, Na patience turn pressure into paradigm. VERSE — ANCESTOR SIGNAL Dem ancestors no dey sleep for silence, Dem dey speak through rhythm, through resilience. Through drum wey talk, through string wey cry, Through voice wey rise when the road get dry. Kaku Di Benson, carry the message, Turn old memory into modern passage. No be copy, no be paste, Na root wey grow, na future wey taste. Afro-Juju na archive wey dey move, Na history wey dey groove. Na the past wey dey teach the now, Na the fire wey dey show the how. When the bassline drop, make your spirit wake, When the guitar bend, make your heart partake. When the chorus rise, make the whole place shake, Na unity dey turn small voice to earthquake. Zombie big boy, remove the crown, The song no belong to one man alone. Na the street, na the sweat, na the sound, Na the people wey carry the rhythm home. VERSE — EMPIRE OF SOUND Empire no be wall wey dey block the sun, Empire na circle wey carry everyone. Empire no be throne wey one man hold, Empire na story wey future go retold. Build with honour, build with skill, Build with vision, build with will. Build with labour, build with grace, Build with memory, build with pace. Make the studio honour the street, Make the stage remember the beat. Make the money remember the source, Make the success remember the force. No be only microphone, no be only fame, No be only headline, no be only name. Na the hand wey build, na the mind wey plan, Na the heart wey carry the dream of man. FINAL CHANT — Di Juju Xound dey groove, Area shout, the truth dey move. Black Rhythm, no assume-doom, Di ancestors dey guide the room. Di Juju's Guitar string the loom, Blues carry the blueprint go moon.