| Uh-uh, huh! |
| This happens to be the article of fusion
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| Huh! |
| The roots-fi discotheque, uh-uh
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| As we move, huh!
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| It’s that jet-black flow from the southwest of L-O-N-D-O-N
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| The second nature of the vent dem rebel routine
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| I scheme and plot, ain’t no use in stepping if we don’t step hot
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| Let the movements be made, there’s goals to be getting
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| No second for no love or no fettin'
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| Why there’s all these ugly mans on my TV screen?
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| I wrap my head with foil so I don’t catch them beams
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| The sound of half a downer don’t pray fi step solo
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| We far flung frontier, Captain Kirk, the sun trekker
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| Full time I climb, my chip deeper taught as I sow seeds of thought
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| The fruits of the roots, a vision of splendid splendidness
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| Now be proud to be spittin' in the face of the beast
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| With each and every move I make, every shite I break
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| You might watch me but I watch you too
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| Ain’t a thing you can do to stop me!
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| Whom wants this or that
|
| Watch these enzymes react
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| How we juggle tings proper
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| Man, don’t fool ya self!
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| Whom wants this or that
|
| Watch these enzymes react
|
| How we juggle tings proper
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| Man, don’t fool ya self!
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| When I swing I’m far fetched like hicks from Hicksville
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| High steps got me trippin' from Peckham to Box Hill
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| Still I stand firm through the strife conflict
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| Motion slick, hip to every ring poli-trick
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| So I spread love like Lennon and Yoko Ono
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| Keep vibes slow-mo for a ho-tential
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| Don’t go callin me coon, you’ll catch a boot to your jaw
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| We pro-black, freak that, can’t sweep no floor
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| I heard those my people, them burst their backs
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| Work hard for eons and paid tax and have not seen jack
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| In return, how does shit burn
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| It could well make a guy lose sense and rationale
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| Onto Kamikazes on shifting streets
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| It’s eyeball for eyeball, teeth for teeth
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| While we spin on this ball of confusion
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| I sight no solution, cesspits just get more frowsy
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| Chemical rain got me drunken and drowsy
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| Rowdy, I got no choice but to be
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| A living example of a root-fi youth type soldier
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| Bowling through like there ain’t no tomorrow
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| Brave them terrains of pain and deep sorrow
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| But still keep sliding on, I try to make sense of the madness
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| But it seems like I’m wasting my time, it’s best I just
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| Go get me mine, find some inner peace
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| Climb to higher heights, embrace the light
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| Whom wants this or that
|
| Watch these enzymes react
|
| How we juggle tings proper
|
| Man, don’t fool ya self!
|
| Whom wants this or that
|
| Watch these enzymes react
|
| How we juggle tings proper
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| Man, don’t fool ya self!
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| This living dead noose, the bane of life in the west
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| But who’s down for civil unrest?
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| In times like these, comrades is hard to find
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| The beast keeps the masses toeing the line
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| With them sneaky tactics they’ll keep them boys running
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| So they can have a market for their guns and ammunition
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| Keep the third world in a stagnant position
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| Begging for monetary aid from IMF
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| Who don’t seem too keen to write off the third world debt
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| 'Cause they profit from holding it down
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| Soon there’ll be no dollars, no yens, no pounds
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| Just madness, microchips and hi-tech war
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| And all because the beast wants to gain control
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| Of each and every mind, body, spirit and soul
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| Whom wants this or that
|
| Watch these enzymes react
|
| How we juggle tings proper
|
| Man, don’t fool ya self!
|
| Whom wants this or that
|
| Watch these enzymes react
|
| How we juggle tings proper
|
| Man, don’t fool ya self!
|
| We keep it jugglin, keep it jugglin |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Juggle Tings Proper , by - Roots Manuva. Song from the album Brand New Second Hand, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп