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my queen is ada eastman - sons of kemet lyrics

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[instrumental]

[verse 1]
still here, still grinding
hustling and striving
in these dark times, these dark
minds i’m a diamond
big ben is still chiming
they don’t wanna see us smiling
they wanna keep us grimey
but my politics still lively

still here amongst the sirens
thunder claps and violence down
dust in lane i’m scribing
no visits from your highness
still here my dear despite
the prophecies of seers
smashed to pieces on the pier
put myself back like ikea

still here amongst the br-ss
garments washed in starch
london wind is biting harsh
shiver my thin moustache
i’m crude but not into cr-ss
willing and able and up to the task
they go low we go high it’s a fact
they go low we go high like tax

[verse 2]
still here and cool
still here like queen castle
[? 4:01]
old school, like tomatoes too, ooh
stood on the shoulders of greats
in my hands my own faith
make my enemies eat the cake
cry me a river, cry me a lake

still here god willing
old rebels still revelling
calm inside with kettle in
calm though times unsettling
[?] settled in
don’t want the beef that i’m serving
feline amongst these vermin
black and proud and determined

[verse 3]
jump in the war left in this ditch
ate with a priest drive with a witch
man’s a [?]
heartbreak wherever my flag is pitched
cutting my hunger for fine things
learning the lesson that time brings

acquired this taste for london pride
spread my wings in these noxious skies
in these streets, these streets where foxes hide
i’m not yet old and i’m so wise
i take this strife in my stride

i must admit, it’s tough at times
but most don’t like it, i dive in
this never never never never
ending pressure piling on
i’m still here still unruly
all sound and all fury

all frown and all fury
all gas and all fury
no peers, no jury
burn ukip, f-ck the tories
f-ck the fascists, end of story

f-ck ’em all, f-ck ’em truly
call me a roach, ’cause i’m resilient
i’m born strong, the son of an immigrant
struggling element
and i’ll be here
i’ll be here when your cities are sediment
and only your borders and fences are left
i’ll be here when your banks stop selling debt
and all your leaders stop selling death
and you’ve lost all relevance
in the corner with your pen and paper
scribing your last will and testament

[outro]
i’m still here
i’m still here
i’m still here
i’m still here
man still here
i’m still here
i’m still here
dun know

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