African stands part 2-1

Still got Bob in the background hummin’,

Still got freedom drummers drummin’,

Still got Babylon walls all crumblin’,

Still got the youth with the fire incoming—

No silence, we spit with defiance,

African hearts got war alliance,

You feel that bass? That’s raw reliance,

We born from pain, we don’t fear tyrants—

Yo—Burkina to Mogadishu,

Now we movin’ with a global issue,

Unite the black man, blow that whistle,

Traoré steps, they all get crippled—

Lion of Africa call that storm,

We reshape world like truth reborn,

Outta Stonebridge, rise and swarm,

From the cradle where the kings were born—

Ayo—who said the black man broke?

Who said the dark skin spoke no hope?

Look at the fire that my verse provoke,

Turn that mic to a Molotov smoke—

I’m writin’ history in grime,

Bassline carryin’ every rhyme,

Black heroes in eternal time,

Marley smiles when the bars align—

Yo—Burnin’ spear in my chest plate,

Don’t talk pain if your soul ain’t great,

Don’t speak Bob if your mind ain’t straight,

He sang for the truth, not fame or weight—

He sang for the ghetto, sang for the poor,

Sang for the kids behind steel doors,

Sang for the black man fightin’ wars,

Now we respond with lyrical force—

Yo—Zumbi blood in my DNA,

Runnin’ through favelas with that rage,

Africa global, break that cage,

Time to revive that freedom stage—

From Rio to Lagos, one vibration,

Black foundation, soul salvation,

This ain’t drill, this is revelation,

I’m buildin’ empires with narration—

Back on the beat like a bloodline scream,

I see Haile Selassie in my dream,

I see Assata runnin’ with the team,

We movin’ mountains with laser beams—

Black girl magic in every zone,

Shea butter queens takin’ the throne,

Somali girls in a world of their own,

Beauty so loud, the earth been shown—

Yo—don’t forget about Steve Biko,

He ain’t just words, he was the keynote,

He ain’t just quotes in a TikTok feed,

He lived and died just so we breathe—

Nkrumah, Sankara, all that flame,

Heroes burned by capitalist shame,

But now we here, no more games,

We takin’ back what they can’t reclaim—

Bob Marley voice still in my head,

“Emancipate yourself,” he said—

“Don’t wait for them to break that thread,”

We the ones, it’s blood we bled—

Ayo—Africa don’t need no savior,

We got sons born with royal behavior,

We got Traoré holdin’ that saber,

Lion of Africa, truth engraver—

Grime ain’t just for the London blocks,

It’s drums from the Nile in every drop,

It's coded language on street-side rocks,

It’s spiritual war, not TikTok talks—

Yo—truth is bitter, freedom ain’t cute,

We walk with wounds under army boots,

We chant for justice under blackened suits,

Mic like a staff when the lions recruit—

Now tell me—who gon’ rep like this?

Who gon’ spit with revolutionary fists?

Who gon’ march through the mist?

Spittin’ for every king that they dismissed—

Yo, they tried to silence Marcus,

Tried to fade the work of the artists,

But we remain, fire regardless,

Every verse I write is bombarded—

Yo—Africa’s not poor, just robbed,

Looted