🌍🔥 GANJA ‘D’YANGA – GANJA

NTRO Maberu, Maba Heru. Fear no one born of woman’s womb — use water. Look towards the East. They won’t like you — you are loved, you are powerful. No AWOL — extraction rejected. Stand your ground, see you in Orion. Yes yes, it’s Orion — fight back. VERSE 1 They keep asking me this question, like it’s written in the sky: “Who was honourable Prince Yanga?” and the beat just replies — boom‑boom, ask again, Yoruba cosmic swagger, Yoruba cosmic swagger. Every time the rhythm drops, the people start to wonder — a prince from Shango, Obatala, Yemoja, IFA long ago, still shaking up the thunder. “Is this Omo Ogun?” they whisper, like they know but they don’t know. Ganja ganja d’Yanga, dem make Yanga for ganja — what about the coke without fire, or where there’s fire there’s smoke? It’s the swagger and the laughter, the coded talk, the after‑after. A phrase rolling rolling rolls like lightning, a chant that hits the brain — not threatening, just a melody that makes you smile before you even catch the name. chorus. Ganja d’Yanga… moving in the night like manna, Soft on the tongue, but it hits with the answer. Who was Yanga… floating in the bass like amber, Name so sweet, make the whole world wonder. Mm‑mm, d’Yanga… Mm‑mm, that Yanga… A little flavour in the dark, little spark in the mantra. VERSE 2 Some say he walked with courage, some say he walked with fire, some say he broke the chains and turned pressure into choir. But the beauty of the story is the mystery inside — a prince who stood for freedom, a symbol of human pride. When the DJ spins the record and the night begins to glow, that question hits the dancefloor like everybody knows — but nobody really knows. Ganja ganja d’Yanga, dem make Yanga for ganja — not water, not thunder, just a rhythm moving under. A phrase that slides like river, a vibe that makes you shiver. PRE‑CHORUS History dancing in the bassline, legacy glowing in the moonshine. Say it once, say it twice, let the question feel nice. Ganja d’Yanga… moving in the night like manna, Soft on the tongue, but it hits with the answer. Who was Yanga… floating in the bass like amber, Name so sweet, make the whole world wonder. Mm‑mm, d’Yanga… Mm‑mm, that Yanga… A little flavour in the dark, little spark in the mantra. BRIDGE Maybe he was royalty, maybe he was bravery, maybe he was destiny walking through the centuries. Maybe he’s a metaphor for every soul that rises more — every time life shuts a door, we turn the lemons into lore. ⭐ FINAL (SOULFUL OUTRO) Ganja d’Yanga… moving in the night like manna, Soft on the tongue, but it hits with the answer. Who was Yanga… floating in the bass like amber, Name so sweet, make the whole world wonder. Mm‑mm, d’Yanga… Mm‑mm, that Yanga… A little flavour in the dark, little spark in the mantra.