(Verse 2)
Thirteen-twenty-four, he set out on the road,
A holy pilgrimage, a legendary load.
Sixty thousand men marching side by side,
Caravans of camels full of African pride.
Eighty camels packed with the dust of the sun,
Handing out the gold to each and every one.
When he rolled into Cairo, he gave it all away,
And the value of the currency plummeted for days!
(Chorus)
Mansa Kanka Musa, Emperor of Mali,
Walking in the light of the divine decree!
With a heart full of faith and a hand full of gold,
The greatest story of the continent told.
Roots, rock, reggae for the golden king,
Let the choirs of Timbuktu forever sing!
(Bridge)
But he didn't just bring gold to the foreign sand,
He brought the masters of the mind back to his land.
Architects and scholars from the northern coast,
To build up the cities that we honor the most.
The Sankore University, rising up high,
Where the books and the wisdom reach up to the sky.
A beacon of knowledge, a fortress of grace,
Uplifting the identity of the human race.
(Verse 3)
Now the clay of Djinguereber still stands in the sun,
A testament to everything the Emperor had done.
They write you in the charts as the richest of all time,
But the richness of your legacy is what makes this rhyme.
Not the gold in the vault, nor the crown on the head,
But the empire of intellect you left there instead.
(Outro)
Yeah... Mansa Musa.
The gold may fade, but the history remains.
From Niani to Gao, the roots run deep.
A righteous ruler in the ancient days.
Let the spirit of Mali inspire the children today.
One love. One destiny.
Rastafari.
(Heavy bass dropping out, leaving a ringing echo of the brass section and a fading drum beat)