Caribeño (part. Saso)

Tell me, Rauw
Caribbean for real

Paving the way with the sounds, going underground
I never forget my roots
That they cut my umbilical, belly button
(I’ve always been real)

The Bronx is a witness
Happy on the streets, I’m always gonna live
Rum and drums raised me this way

Caribbean, Versace shades
We’re in the dance, it’s voluntary
Giving it a good smack, leaving her wet in her panties
Let’s make a movie and send it to World Latin

From the land we’ve touched to the grass we’ve smoked
Seven and a half to hit hard, look how far we’ve come

Because there’s no dembow without Shabba Ranks
Cassette Playero, tell me what’s up
The diaspora, the good salsa
Without afro mambo like Chan Chan’s

Merengue without kompa wouldn’t exist
Without fire Shango and Boca d'Eleguá
Baby, what’s up? Let’s go down
To the underground, the water of Yemayá

From the beyond, through the sea breeze, the world hears our song
That comes from Jamaica, Cuba, DR, and also the Island of Enchantment
There’s a cocolo named Saso, dropping knowledge, preaching
Always defending his people, so they keep fighting together

Caribbean
Ca-ca-Caribbean

(National Weather Service in San Juan)
The Caribbean!
A tropical storm is coming–
(Puerto Rico isn’t ready for this)
(Ay-ay-ay, eh)

Caribbean
The storm won’t break us, no (no)

We are a blessed mix
That Taino who planted
From Africa, the drum comes
And we have the edge of Castile

Up there, in the mountain (up there in the mountain)
The Caribbean man, his strength doesn’t shout, his strength builds
Even when the wind comes, he stands firm, like the ceiba tree
He doesn’t give up, he reinvents himself

If his soul was carved by centuries of struggle
The Caribbean woman has fire in her hips
She brings calm with her voice
Has the power to heal with just a glance
And to lift the towns with her hands (mother)

When she walks, the ancestors follow her (uh-wuh)
The Caribbean can’t be explained, it’s felt, it’s lived, it’s honored
We carry, on our shoulders, centuries of struggle
(Ey, let’s hit the streets, cá-cá-cáile)

But we still dance like history doesn’t weigh us down, uoh-oh
But we still dance and sadness doesn’t show on our faces
We’re not made of glass, we’re made of coral
Beautiful and resilient (the Caribbean)

Here comes the storm
(We are the storm, ey)