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

for centuries, stabbed and mobbed,

Diamonds bled while the prophets sobbed,

But now the tables turned, they gettin’ robbed—

We takin’ back what our elders grew,

Burkina Faso standin’ true,

Captain speakin’ with that view,

Unified black, that chosen crew—

Yo—my flow ain’t TikTok cap,

This that trench coat truth in rap,

This that stolen crown gettin’ snatched,

This that colonizer gettin’ clapped—

Yeah—Bob Marley, eyes still see,

Lookin’ down on this unity,

He ain’t gone, he in that beat,

In every youth with fire in feet—

Stonebridge bass with Hargeisa boom,

Drop that truth like a sonic tomb,

Somaliland flags in every room,

Africa roars like it’s full moon—

Yo—no more borders, break that curse,

Put all the traitors in reverse,

Put all the youth in a truth school verse,

We the architects, not rehearsed—

Bob spoke it—Africa for Africans,

Now we buildin’ real plans,

Not just hashtags or brand scans,

But one flag flyin’ through lands—

Bassline heavy, like slave ship ghosts,

Bars like chains that clap the hosts,

History written in sacred posts,

We the legacy they fear the most—

Yo—still I cry for Malcolm's dream,

Still I rage for the unseen,

Still I speak for the in-between,

Still I grind for that Wakanda scene—

Not fiction, but a real regime,

Where black queens reign supreme,

Where Traoré leads the team,

Where Lion of Africa build the beam—

Bob Marley said it plain—

“One love” ain’t just a campaign,

It’s revolution in the brain,

It’s fightin’ through generational pain—

He ain’t just reggae, he’s liberation,

He sang through occupation,

Now we chant for compensation,

Full-on African salvation—

I don’t spit bars, I drop tombstones,

For every king that died unknown,

For every queen in a warzone,

For every seed that never grown—

Now we regrow from sacred root,

From Nile to Atlas, absolute—

We speak in tongue that kings salute,

Mic in my hand like a blackened flute—

Bass still knockin’ in holy rage,

Verses like books on every page,

Rhymes like prison breakin’ cage,

Words like war that reclaim stage—

Yo—Bob Marley, I still feel you,

Every lyric you said, I still hear too,

They tried to bury the real view,

But your melody built the breakthrough—

Yo—Africa One, that’s not a dream,

It’s real right now, we form that team,

Burkina Faso in the light beam,

Traoré’s rise ain’t just a meme—

It’s prophecy turned into flame,

Lion of Africa roarin’ name,

Somaliland in the front of the frame,

We don’t beg, we just reclaim—