Slow J’s “Tata” feels like an open letter to his father, to his roots, and to anyone who has ever chased a dream while missing home. The chorus repeats a playful yet urgent “Tata wanange, quanto tempo p’ra te encontrar?” that mixes Portuguese with Angolan Kimbundu, asking “Dad, my dear, how long until I find you?” Time is the great villain here: Slow J knows every extra minute apart “vai nos custar” – will cost them – so he vows to smash through every barrier, “tomar a banda de assalto” (take the band by storm) and then “o mundo de assalto” (the whole world) just to reunite and show his family he is not tired, only determined.
Behind the bravado sits a tender heart. Slow J remembers hearing his father say he was tired and seeing sadness in a man he had never heard complain. Those memories become fuel: clean the house, throw the useless things away, let wounds turn into scars, and march on with gratitude for every lesson dad taught. “Tata” celebrates resilience, ambition, and love in equal measure. It is a rhythmic promise: no matter how far success takes him, Slow J’s compass will always point back to family and the place that shaped him.