Intro
Yeah…What’s good Africa? It’s your boy Fecko the Emcee
Wuddup Nigeria, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Kenya
Eyo Teck, wuddup?
Verse 1 – FECKO (Nigeria)
By the dawn of the twentieth century
She broke loose from the shackles of slavery
Then embraced freedom with open arms
Still contradictory like stolen alms
Now she thinks freely and speak her own thoughts
Inspired many poems and spoken words
Musical greats fell in love with her
Such as Fela Kuti and Black (Mamboza)
Danced makossa when she visited Congo
Back in Nigeria Afro-beat drove her loco
However She gets negative press
And cursed on foreign media, whereas she’s blessed
They call her third world while She’s the first
To witness civilization here on earth
Over the years, she’s grown so strong
Viva Africa! May she live long
Verse 2 – SYNIK (ZIMBABWE)
i guess my destiny has always been inscribed in my heart/so like my continent, i let myself shine
through the dark/sometimes i sit on a park bench, and scribble a parchment/with this God sent gift
i wonder what we’ll accomplish/I came forth when the tradition was passed/Through my people it
lives on, we were conditioned to last/So my poetry’s branches cant be cut/Knows no end like the
design of my granny’s hut/we used to chant praises to clapping and drums and shakers/now we
raps greatest cause we blessed with the African flavour/The oral tradition that reflects the moral
condition/and the dopest renditions that impact with growth when you listen/in keeping up with
the times, i tried to refine it/but when i searched for inspiration it was harder to find it/I watch
these cats strut like they got iron in their scrotum/its a jungle so i gotta be a lion like my totem/
Verse 3 – HOLSTAR(ZAMBIA)
African Poetry Raw a Poet in War/
All Eyes on me like Majority Saw/
Child Soldier – Carry my Gun Known as The Holstar/
Tragically run verbal bullets know that its over/
I’m sober in a drunken mind state,minds great/
Drop bars for skins thats irate, like fins they vibrate/
Shout to my homie Synik from Zimbabwe, Biggin’ Mugabe/
Its the Zambian Sun from the Northside/
Hit em with a left and right till they’re cockeye/
Scorching heat – Burn em till they’re all dry/
Who wanna test this – Nah – they don’t try/
I’m So Fly in the African Sun, So Proud though I’m rapping non African Tongue/
Still an African Son, Bumping African drums, Repping Africa, Wait for the Africans Come…
Verse 4 – FIKRAH TEULE (KENYA)
ni word of mouth skia,
unaweza trace nkiwacha historia/
nevertheless, mengi nachangia,
ka hukujua hii ndo njia/
ni soulfood kwa bro, asionje powder/
ku-trade wisdom across borders
kando ya caravans za carmels,
bidhaa za China ma-enamel
zaidi ya meditation kwa bars,
elavate mindstate zina scars
burning grass tukingoja rainy season/
tidal waves na typhoons nki-turn seas on
bado ni jamii ina-suffer,
lipa bills bila supper/
Na-explore Africa,dark continent mwangaza umefika/
Hope kuwajibika, spread umoja fikra naandika/
