[Start of Extended Verse – Pure London Grit]
Yo…
I ain’t from Mayfair, I’m from roads where hope get dashed,
Where a man’ll risk life for a stack and mash.
Where man see jail before GCSEs,
And the loudest ones end up RIP.
Mi grew on blocks where the flats look grey,
Council estates where dreams decay.
Mum worked two jobs, pops weren't there,
So mi learned how to move like I just don't care.
But deep in mi soul, had fire untamed,
Had visions of freedom, unshackled chains.
Them times it was noodles and broken lighters,
Now it’s suits and overseas invite letters.
Still, mi nah forget them brokedown days,
Mi loyalty run deep, it don't shake or fade.
Seen too many snakes in the Gucci frame,
Seen brothers turn ops for a lil’ clout game.
Man used to post by the chicken shop,
Now I post vision with the world on lock.
See the pain in my eyes and the hunger beneath,
Talk real rap? I breathe that speech.
Night bus home, head full of rage,
While mi bredrin slept in a concrete cage.
Never had mentors, just OGs stressed,
With a 9 in a sock and the weight on chest.
Mi learned from the loss, learned from the trap,
Learned from silence, learned how to rap.
Never needed pity, just a clear mind,
Mi future divine, mi design by grind.
Mandem think it’s luck ‘til the war get near,
Then they see who's lion and who’s just fear.
---
[Middle – Street Sermon]
Mi speak for the yutes that ain't got voice,
Fi the boys on block with no clear choice.
For the girl on the grind with a baby inside,
Mi see your fight — keep that pride.
I spit for the dons with dreams in cage,
Still flipping work to escape that wage.
Mi rap for mi brudda who ain't come back,
Caught in the cross when the streets turn black.
Can't talk soft when the pain run deep,
Every line mi drop is the blood I leak.
Nah, mi don’t smile when the fake ones hype,
Mi rather sit quiet, let the pen just write.
Every loss mi took was a secret class,
Now mi flip those lessons and turn to cash.
---
[Final Stretch – Lion of Africa Rise]
Now I walk through London with kinglike steps,
With a warborn soul and a beat in chest.
Mi speak for a nation that been dismissed,
Mi lyrics break chains, mi bars uplift.
Mohamed Adan Dahir — yuh feel that name?
Built from the dust, mi reject shame.
Mi come from Somalia, heart so wild,
Still I talk to kings with a streetboy style.
Now it's black Benz rides and custom suits,
But mi still got links in tracksuits.
Still got bredrins locked in jail,
Still send funds when the postman mail.
Still protect mi name like mi guard mi kids,
Still pray for peace in the life mi live.
Mi nah chase fame, mi build empire,
Mi talk to the globe with a voice of fire.
Mi walk like war, mi move like law,
Mi silence haters — mi need not roar.
---
[Outro – Fade with Strength]
No hook needed.
No gimmicks.
Just bars.
Pain.
Truth.
London to Somaliland.
The Lion of Africa RISES.
Mohamed
