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200 bars of power - lowkey lyrics

[intro]
200 bars, sbtv, exclusive, listen

[verse 1]
guess who’s back from the land of the nomads
land of the scallywags, land of the toerags
land where they don’t snapchat and they don’t dab
we were fractures to fragments, it’s so sad
guess who’s back from the land of the nomads
land of the scallywags, land of the toerags
land where they don’t snapchat and they don’t dab
we were fractures to fragments, it’s so sad
we were captured as chapters in notepads
where the have-lots robbed from the don’t-haves
where the caps lock’s lost in the phone tap
emojis minus emotion and vocab
seven years p-ssed, let me p-rs- you for part 2
never let them tell you what you can or you can’t do
they don’t know where you stand ’cause they aren’t you
love yourself to the core, even when it’s hard to
cry no more, shout and sing
violence in silence the loudest thing
they don’t know about the power the shaolin brings
place a rock for a mountain that outlives him
like malcolm did, we are out of sync
and out of time by the sound of things
arms long like [? 0:57] is how to win
best murder machine gets crowned a king
but what about the voices that can’t be heard
[? 1:00], witch hunt like mccarthy purge
you’re lying to yourself, the past seems worse
’cause i can get dark, more dark than the dark moor
i can get dark like a dark night in dartmoor
dark like, darfur at half-past four
am, so why you dummies getting daft for?
not shy to defend it, don’t try to prevent this
a mind as tremendous as einstein or midas i meant this
i rise from the trenches like vikings
i’m fighting for my independence
my rhymes are relentless
like a right to your dentures
your rhymes are as violent as fencing
my rhymes are offensive
as violent as ghengis through pride and resentment
misers cry to lament this, how foul could your mouth be?
how could you doubt me?
that’s random like a row with a mounty
or an alchi’ driving his audi to saudi
or bush and blair making rap alb-ms about p’s
she ready for the rumble, heading for a tumble
definitely better any veteran among you
they should’ve told you ‘if anybody loves you with level irrelevance, you will never get above two’
i murk it with ease, burn it indeed
merge with the beat like the birds and the bees
they want food for thought, i will serve them a feast
not commercial, believe that i nurtured a niche
much love to those doing reaction vids
rap kids act big but are tacticless
better off practising mad backflips
with a bad slipped disc and fractured wrists
who mastered this? know what the answer is
who’s got bars that carve to the heart of this?
regardless, i blame sb for starting this
what’s fire in the booth to an arsonist?
guys don’t make me rap, guys don’t make me rap
guys don’t make me rap, might go crazy at
what’s fire in the booth to a pyromaniac?
please bro, he don’t need no heat though
what’s fire in the booth to the dragon ricky steamboat
seven years out, never fear doubt
any peers proud? whatever the weather, better clear out
you’re a mere mouse, i’m here now to tear down
what you care about [? 2:25] can never compare now
back worse than ever before, rebel with a cause you could never ignore
if anyone thought, i never dead it with metaphors that were better than your’s
i rendered the [?] seven [?] and dead on the floors
let them have a bite, but that was bad advise if you frattonise
know what man-a-man are like when a man on mic
battles bad as [? 2:41]
had enough of savage lies getting sanitised
asinine pantomimes got you paralysed
got a panoramic mind when i strategise
agonise, -n-lyse before i spat a rhyme
merciless mystic, birth as a misfit
journalistic gift with the verbalist instinct
they heard that i did this, cursed as an infant
but burst with the verse, like the first in existence
billionaires, they don’t want corbyn in
we nearly are there, hit them with the four-kick spin
they’re silly and scared, running on a forfeit ting
hearing impaired, thinking i’m a nordic king
we fought the cowards of corporate towers
tryna force them out the corridors of power
and the taste-makers were sort of sour
vultures circle, leave your corpse devour
but i’m back now

let’s keep going, give me the next one

50 down, 150 bars for the redistribution of power
exclusive, listen

[verse 2]
power to those that read bell-hooks
power to those that sell books
power to those who know how the inside of a cell looks
all those feeling helpless, forgotten and discarded
power to the strange fruit they thought was rotten in the garden
power to those sitting alone, seeking solace in the calmness
power to those feeling stained, know your tomorrow isn’t tarnished
power to those that sweep the streets with more knowledge than phd’s
power to those that keep their keys, return this promise, please believe
power to those that suffer in silence, those it hurts to hear
power to those that hold their ground powered to those that percevere
power to those that love humanity more than they love style
power to immigrants probably raising donald trump’s child
power to the blind who can’t imagine what sight is
power to those staring at the moon and all those working night-shifts
power to the readers, the writers, the illiterate
power to those that struggle to decolonise the syllabus
power to the shy ones, always struggle to make friends and the
half of humanity worth less than eight men
power to those that risked their life to dig the [?] from the ground for the mic i’m spitting on and the phone you’re holding now
power to those that build the stadium they’re playing in
power to those that mowed the gr-ss and st-tched the ball that they’re playing in
power to every rapper that doesn’t rap about k!lling
power to the builders who built buildings that outlived and
power to the slaves in ancient greece that didn’t have the right to vote; democracy dead like gary webb when they import it like its c-ke
power to those right in prison
power to those right in home
power to those writing poems
power to those that died alone
power to curtis mayfield
power to ronald isely
power to the fishermen that were forced into piracy
power to every person that is working in a library
power to every nurse that we turn to in our times of need
power to the unions and the mindless [?] punish power to those that drive the buses and those that collect the rubbish
power to the youth desiring the true
power to every rapper that is dying for a fire in the booth
for those that lost limbs to king leopalds couture and those risking their lives for the p in [?]
power to union leaders murdered by [pause]
power to victims in this globalized c-ka nostra
power to those dying on the sh-r-s of the borders
power to human beings that were rendered [?]
power to those that cleaned up after the stage show and carnival goers still haunted by kelso cochrane’s ghost
power to … his picture taunts us ever after so many questions never answered
remember the last words of abdul-muhsin al-saadoun [?]
power to [?] and his rebellions they k!lled his brother ja’far and he cursed the [?]
enlighten despots pursuing tactics machiavellian
chinese still preceded europa millennium think about it
printed press half a millennium never get close
power to [?]

- lowkey lyrics

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