Search results for people from the grass roots by king tubby

We've found 50 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching people from the grass roots by king tubby:



the seed to sow
We're just waitin' on the crops to grow
Day by day it just gets sweeter
Plantin' roots that just grow deeper
Takin' our own sweet time
On the actual, I swings like I'm Satchel
And brings groovy things to my peoples on the natural
Inclined to align, index to other flow and through
everyday the ghetto youths dead up

[Verse 1]
Mi ask the leader
Him a di arranger
Fi mek poor people surround by danger
Fly an the roach an giant
everyday the ghetto youths dead up

[Verse 1]
Mi ask the leader
Him a di arranger
Fi mek poor people surround by danger
Fly an the roach an giant
and from D.C. to Peking email warns of lost global rights
and the hoax the world's leaders, wanted no one to see
comes crashing on their heads from grass
paid, still having fun
Being explicit straight from the streets 
Not forgettin' our roots to an up-tempo beat
Taking what they say just for granted
For us
I own a mansion, but live in a house
A king-size bed, but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mr.Brightside, glass is half full
But my tank is half empty,
I was brought up by snakes, taught me to survive in the grass
Use one eye to watch your friend the other watch your ass
Let no man be excused from
with kinks
When it all goes down, have no idea what it really means.
To live by words, if scripture is roots,
And the wise hold they tongue when
king, rapper from the South
And everybody wants the easy way out, and it's all for the

("Money") The root of all evil
Deceivin' 'cause even my closest
to go to school, graduate and get a job
But I'm a Hip Hop cash king, rapper from the South
And everybody wants the easy way out

The root of all evil
From the base motherland
The place of the drum
Invaded by the wack diddie wack
Fooled the black, left us faded
King and chief probably had a big beef
legit like the Wu-Tang Clan
AND, I come to spit like Public Enemy man
AND, it's from The Roots like the hip-hop band
If I, I got to shoot I got
will remember your name and face
On the day you were judged by the fun house cast
And I will rejoice in your fall from grace
With a cane to the sky
I was born in France, called the "Maid of Orleans"
Led by the voices of the Saints
I went to the Court dressed in men's clothes
To save my people
shoot the breeze with the roots of trees. 

Or go down by the river, watch the way the devil danced,
But never took his hand even though I did have
shooting people
Money ain't the root of evil it be much more than that
America taught me how to kidnap and torture cats

[Chorus: x2]
Exit the stargate
start to motor
Tour from New York to South Dakota
Drink ginger ale or root beer soda
Never get the girls with the underarm odor
Put me on water, I'm
King on the left, it on the right and primping adjusting his nose as he reads from his scroll
Folksy knockwurst peel back the skin of French and what do
of optical sewer, release the handle that holds all the
Gates up, puncture the eyeballls, that seep all the muck up,
Read all the books and he people worth
It was a hard task
To take on

To make us all believe

To rescue us from evil cause
They wanted to achieve
Avenge to gain respect
Defend ourselves
direction is that of the outcast
out lasting temptation like the thirty day fast redeemed from the past renamed in the present
i sing to the King Who came
start to motor
Tour from New York to South Dakota
Drink ginger ale or root beer soda
Never get the girls with the underarm odor
Put me on water, I'm
on the scene we start killing kings 
People claim we're too wild to tame 
On stage we behave like sizzlin' flame 
And oh, so cool when we rap you need
start to motor
Tour from New York to South Dakota
Drink ginger ale or root beer soda
Never get the girls with the underarm odor
Put me on water, I'm