A volta do Thievery Corporation com um álbum de raiz e foco no electro-reggae é uma das grandes notícias musicais de 2007, o trabalho é 100% influenciado pela Jamaica, tanto nas participações, quanto em toda comunicação e conceito de The Temple of I & I, nova pérola dos DJs Rob Garza e Eric Hilton, baseados desde sempre na capital norte-americana Whashington DC.
Desde 1996 o Thievery Corporation vem causando com muito estilo, injetando bom gosto, inteligência e ativismo político no mundo da eletrônica, combinando o Jazz, Acid Jazz, Reggae, Dub, Hip Hop, Bossa Nova, influências indianas e do oriente médio, num grande e variado coletivo musical.
Letras originas de Letter to the Editor – single de 2017 do Thievery Corporation com super particpação de Racquel Jones
Pocket full a promises , Baby empty bellies
Poverty and Democracies , And political rallies
But who the rich a lobby for, Using me for votes
Pretend a mi yuh sorry forThen win and its a joke
I’m sick of trick or treaters in costumes like dem as leaders
Charismatic public speakers , False prophets and fake healers.
Articulate perfect grammar scammer , Scamming us for votes
Infront of tv camera with an innocent approach.
Nuh mo lies and fallacies , Bun apologiesTry nuh ask please when a squeeze and yuh pan yuh knees
Justice or else says the minister Farakhan
Suh me stand up a Gordon house , Wid my Glock Inna me handIf I take it literally, fuck it geez I’m kinda sorry
But smaddy need Fi answer
Gimmi Di microphone and Mek mi rep di innocent paying recompense for money spent to feed the governmentsYo! Gimmi Di microphone get the people riled up too much fuckery Piled up get di ting dem oiled up
Parallel universes in the same Ol’ hemisphere
Authorities they don’t care with dem nose up in the airCause our bombs dem metaphoric
We talk Di truth and mek Di youths dem better for it
Cause I’m a fighter, yeah
If you agree put up yuh lighter, yeahMek the stench from ghetto fences permeate dem residences extend up through the trenches up to where the presidents is Karma pan Di ones and twos yes it turn the tables
had enough a you with your parable and fables, Jamaican bad gal queen and revolutionaryNeva quick Fi start a war but shoot whenever necessary
Product of the inner city
Where me come from it nuh pretty, Survive the nitty grittyAin’t nobody taking pity , Survival kinda sticky
In New York Cali and philly
A di same ting a gwaan in a KingstonThese are the da days of the last days, pan the last page of Di book of the dark age
We a path ways wid oppressors
Seek Predecessors , Wake up ancestorsDen we team up together, We will meet we will meet pan Di battle Di battle ground
Trade mi microphone, For a shottie and some copper stones
Just be ready When Di gavel soundBun a folly ground fus , Jah surround us
So We never nervous , Was a mental war now this shit turn physical
From long time scar we a reap the residual
From slavery to now, now the ting get critical
Dem CyAh kill we soul cause dem sight sey we spiritualSo They be like, hey,prod the bull under Sykes as subliminal, get them mad
Then chastise dem as criminal , Give wi drugs under guise sey it clinical