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ʟᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀʏ ʟᴏᴍi🇵🇬

BEST OF LUCKY DUBE

Noseh X Overload (Jayzo.685 REMIX)

pensamento vs - ERIC DONALSON 2015

LUCKY DUBE - Back To My Roots

Lucky Dube Phillip was een Zuid-Afrikaanse reggeaster.

Lucky Dube: Hold On

[Verse 1]
I brewed jet-fuel coffee to wake the dead—
’cause the living here keep smashing snooze.
Drone sirens stitch the Nordic sky,
we call it “peace,” we just changed shoes.
Paper tiger, paper bear—
same zoo, different handler’s stare.
“New world order?” Same old tricks,
fresh paint on the same old bricks.

[Pre-Chorus]
What’s the point? I ask again.
Is it us who pay, or the stacks of men
crying when their mountains stall—
poor dears, their money won’t grow tall.

[Chorus]
Brew it black—wake the dead. (Pour it straight, no chaser.)
Tip the cup on every head. (Burn the script, not the neighbor.)
No vodka in my mug today—
I want nerves that feel, not fade away.
If power’s just a stage and set,
pull the rope—make the curtains sweat.

[Verse 2]
Europe looks like lab-coat art,
mixing codes that tear apart.
Maybe there’s a grand design—
or just a boardroom selling time.
Politicians front-row proud,
mics turned up, truth tuned down.
Actors nail a world that’s fake;
backstage bosses take their take.

[Pre-Chorus]
What’s the point? The question bites.
Let folks be folks; fix what’s in sight.
If suffering’s profit, tally this:
we’re rich in pain they’ll never miss.

[Chorus]
Brew it black—wake the dead. (Pour it straight, no chaser.)
Tip the cup on every head. (Burn the script, not the neighbor.)
No vodka in my mug today—
I want nerves that feel, not fade away.
If power’s just a stage and set,
pull the rope—make the curtains sweat.

[Bridge]
Left wing, right wing—same bird leased,
branded hope with a hidden lease.
Newsfeed gospel, click and kneel;
truth’s paywalled, pain is real.
Seeds of “fear from overseas”?
Please—panic ships in every breeze.
Their favorite war is you vs. you;
fight the mirror, they walk through.

[Breakdown]
Strong coffee, bitter beans—
wake the ghosts inside the screens.
No more hush, no friendly lies;
open eyes are weaponized.

[Final Chorus]
Brew it black—wake the dead. (Pour it straight, no chaser.)
Let the fog run out of thread. (Cut the cue for the faker.)
No vodka in my mug today—
keep it harsh so truth can stay.
If power’s just a stage and set,
drop the lights—make the puppets sweat.

[Outro]
Paper tiger, paper bear—
same parade, new vacant stare.
We won’t drink to dream instead—
serve the world strong coffee—
wake the dead.

Prisoner

Lucky Dube

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