London nights

Beat: Cold drill beat, moody synths, bassline heavy like a car trunk in Peckham, kicks hittin’ like sirens at 2AM)

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(Intro – Quick)

Yo…

Somaliland to London…

Lion of Africa, man don’t beg no king —

We take throne, innit.

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(Verse 1 – Rapid Flow)

From the Eastside dirt to the city estates,

Man seen war, man stepped through hate.

Talk loose, get patterned up bait,

I don't do talkin', fam, I detonate.

Somaliland boy with the UK steez,

Bare pain in the heart, I let that squeeze.

Man been cold since a younger, G,

I don’t need crown, I move like chief.

Try run game, man flip that script,

Whole scene soft, man talk in scripts.

Arab world, stop sleepin’ quick,

Man’ll turn palace to a bruckdown crib.

Got kids in rubble, kings on jets,

Still pop champers while the people sweat.

Try chat morals? You man jokin’,

We know your hands in pockets, broken.

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(Verse 2 – Aggressive Street Slang)

Real ones talk from the belly of war,

You man tweet, I settle the score.

From Gaza strip to Baghdad blocks,

Real yutes starvin', but you post stocks.

Whole region gassed off fame,

But no backbone, just gold and chain.

I see bare man preach with lies,

But can’t look youth dem in the eyes.

You man soft, I talk that crud,

If the crown don’t move, then it’s bathed in blood.

Lion of Africa, bark then bite,

Man don’t play when the people’s right.

Somali blood with the London soul,

Mix that pain with a heart so cold.

Don’t rate fakes, don’t rate chat,

If you ain't risin', better fall back.

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(Verse 3 – Speed Up Flow)

Fast lane livin’, I came from the war,

Now I’m on smoke and I want that more.

Arab leaders move like fraud,

Man want peace but I’m back with sword.

Talk ‘bout rank? Nah fam, show it.

Whole world’s fake, but the mandem know it.

Somaliland stamp on your chest, no joke,

Lion in flesh, no cap, no cloak.

Lebanon, Egypt, UAE,

All them thrones? Man soon see me.

I don’t beg friend, I don’t sip tea,

I want justice, you want TV.

From block to the Gulf, I spit that roar,

Lion of Africa kick down door.

Arab world, man’s callin’ out names,

Move with the youth or get wrapped in flames.

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(Verse 4 – Final Word, Grimey Delivery)

I ain’t here for the flash and fame,

I’m here cos my people deep in pain.

I’m here for the roads, the ones unheard,

I’m here to flip man’s chest with words.

You man sleep, we don’t do bed,

We do rage, and pain, and lead.

Thrones must fall, that’s word to the streets,

From Hargeisa town to them west-end beats.

This ain’t bars, fam – this is war,

Every verse like a lion’s roar.

You move soft, I move raw,

Somaliland’s king – watch man soar.

Mohamed Adan Dahir.

The Lion of Africa.

We don’t ask, we take. We don’t wait, we break.