Once Kings

(بميى بيـى) Rhyme for no reason Rave revelation Good book and garage both Gabriel saved 'em Can the right verse that I write Or that my mum recites Bring me back to my feet make the pain end Mum's on that Chili rotation My people die, evil eye trying to break 'em Praise be to God, so no credit is taken Always in debt to him all that he gave us Still gotta beg, borrow, steal from these pagans Dad says it's "Nazaar" Stop making these statements You rap, they resent and they thank you with hatred I didn't cross seven seas for your radical tweets Son move to the 'burbs Get that paper I spy so many spies, I taste the bacon Got six degrees but I'm self separated Riz doesn't fuck with Rizwan bruv, he hates him Code switch 'til don't know which my name is (بميـى بيـى) Always impatient Now an in-patient, NHS serving up "Dal", yo we made it Drip on my wrist is some steroids and chemo type shit (بميـى بيـى) Yeah, the sickness more common in Asians (بميـى بيـى) The sickness all come from self-hatred The sickness began on a train Where the bodies of babies are soaked in the blood From a border that cuts us in half when its blade hit Jumping down wells from the rapists Show us your foreskin, check what his faith is Neighbors you played with, digging your graves Yeah, our bodies can still keep the score, we can taste it (بميـى بيـى) My DNA knows that they hunted me I'm a thread in a rug pulled from under me High as I fumbled these puns to my mum She mumbles these prayers to no one her son can see (رنج و غم كهائـے بوئـے بيـى، دور سـے...) "Mum, who you talking to?" (كس سـے بـات كر ربى بو؟) (بميـى بيـى) Once we were kings, when will we be kings No more "Salaam, Mo Salah" we believe in Once we were kings, when will we be kings No more "Salaam, Mo Salah" we believe in Once we were kings, when will we be kings No more "Salaam, Mo Salah" we believe in I'm told we can live if the Reds would just win (بميـى بيـى) I'm jealous, I'm late to develop my stuff I'm fed up I can't stay ahead of the rust They rate me for rapping, but I don't make enough You're welcome, but bruv, but I can't live off your love Now they wanna troll, say I'm not enough Fuck 'em I'd get less heat dancing for bucks (بميـى بيـى) Yeah, they vocal and woke, but their quality sucks Nobody comes for your throat like your own A pat on the back and a blade to the bone Taught there can only be one on the throne Cling to a crown 'stead of building a home Bro, I don't make any money from rap I've written this fiction to make us a map (بميـى بيـى) This is a place for us when they send us to camps (بميـى بيـى) They tell us we're niche, we're the niche for His lamp Mistook blood for trust, mistook them for us Tell me why's "Allah" so angry with us I know I fucked up, which sin did he clock (بميـى بيـى) A slave to his will, a slave to my cock So believe all that you see of us in that news (بميـى بيـى) Say we might sneak up and feel up your boo Dilute your gene pool and steal all your food Same song on rotation, they wheel up the truth (و اه، كـيـا بــات بـے) Glass on the shop floor Hearts all cardboard Pakis recycled My face on the dartboard (بميـى بيـى) Bullshit, bullseye Quick little facelift Quick little Michael I fucked your mum, how the fuck am I racist Riz not a spaceship, I'll rep us in stages (بميـى بيـى) Blackie then Paki, then terrorist, same shit Like cruising a ring road, stopped at old places Ladies he laid with but fuck can you blame him She likes the handcuffs, and we're locked in cages Holla for models, voluptuous vapours All I can eat while I'm on this vacation All he can take 'fore it breaks him "Ya Rasool Salam Alayka" "Ya Habib Salam Alayka" "Salavat Allah Alayka"