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Lyrics
CHEFF – Voice of the Immigrant
The immigrant’s life is born already wounded,
before the road begins, farewell cuts deep.
It hurts to leave the land, to tear out roots,
it hurts to leave children, to lose a country.
We don’t need judging eyes staring us down,
nor filthy mouths calling us criminals.
No one migrates for pleasure or fun,
we flee from hunger, from war, from humiliation.
We travel with fear filling the soul,
small bags, hearts sealed in silence.
Promises whispered on station floors:
“I’ll come back, my child,” a voice behind bars.
On planes, on boats, on crowded buses,
every kilometer rips another dream.
Arriving with nothing, starting from zero,
working in silence, swallowing despair.
Now try to understand — if you’re able to see:
don’t speak of justice without knowing pain.
Don’t talk of laws with a full stomach,
while the immigrant cleans your dirt away.
They call us illegal, they call us the problem,
yet we are the base of your whole system.
We build your cities, we harvest your bread,
we lift this world with our bare hands.
Go to hell with your small, poisoned hate,
you’re weak venom, your words have no weight.
You shout so loud, but you don’t know the ground,
you’ve never felt separation’s wound.
Blind to the justice so many carry inside,
standing exhausted, yet never denied.
We are millions, we are voice, we are tide,
when we rise together, nothing can stop the tide.
Push us away and we learn how to fight,
not with knives — but with truth in our cries.
You’ll fall to the ground by your own deceit,
when justice wakes and meets your gaze.
We don’t want pity, we demand respect,
the right to work, to bread, to a roof overhead.
To migrate is courage, it’s never a crime,
the crime is denying humanity to humankind.
And even wounded, we keep moving on,
with longing in our eyes and strength in our spine.
Because the immigrant falls — but rises in faith,
carrying the world…
and still believing in the strength to continue.
Details
GeneratedJan 20, 2026
Duration2:27
LanguageEnglish
Style
Dark, cinematic trap beat with distant church bells and low choir swells, male vocals in an intense half-rap delivery. V
Credits
Prompt by
Mucky1957
Mucky1957ModelAria v5
