Once Kings

(بميى بيـى)
Rhyme for no reason
Rave revelation
Good book and garage both Gabriel saved 'em
Can the right verse that I write
Or that my mum recites
Bring me back to my feet make the pain end
Mum's on that Chili rotation
My people die, evil eye trying to break 'em
Praise be to God, so no credit is taken
Always in debt to him all that he gave us
Still gotta beg, borrow, steal from these pagans

Dad says it's "Nazaar"
Stop making these statements
You rap, they resent and they thank you with hatred
I didn't cross seven seas for your radical tweets
Son move to the 'burbs
Get that paper
I spy so many spies, I taste the bacon
Got six degrees but I'm self separated
Riz doesn't fuck with Rizwan bruv, he hates him
Code switch 'til don't know which my name is (بميـى بيـى)

Always impatient
Now an in-patient, NHS serving up "Dal", yo we made it
Drip on my wrist is some steroids and chemo type shit (بميـى بيـى)
Yeah, the sickness more common in Asians (بميـى بيـى)
The sickness all come from self-hatred
The sickness began on a train
Where the bodies of babies are soaked in the blood
From a border that cuts us in half when its blade hit
Jumping down wells from the rapists
Show us your foreskin, check what his faith is
Neighbors you played with, digging your graves
Yeah, our bodies can still keep the score, we can taste it (بميـى بيـى)
My DNA knows that they hunted me
I'm a thread in a rug pulled from under me
High as I fumbled these puns to my mum
She mumbles these prayers to no one her son can see (رنج و غم كهائـے بوئـے بيـى، دور سـے...)
"Mum, who you talking to?" (كس سـے بـات كر ربى بو؟)
(بميـى بيـى)
Once we were kings, when will we be kings
No more "Salaam, Mo Salah" we believe in
Once we were kings, when will we be kings
No more "Salaam, Mo Salah" we believe in
Once we were kings, when will we be kings
No more "Salaam, Mo Salah" we believe in
I'm told we can live if the Reds would just win (بميـى بيـى)

I'm jealous, I'm late to develop my stuff
I'm fed up I can't stay ahead of the rust
They rate me for rapping, but I don't make enough
You're welcome, but bruv, but I can't live off your love
Now they wanna troll, say I'm not enough
Fuck 'em I'd get less heat dancing for bucks (بميـى بيـى)
Yeah, they vocal and woke, but their quality sucks
Nobody comes for your throat like your own
A pat on the back and a blade to the bone
Taught there can only be one on the throne
Cling to a crown 'stead of building a home
Bro, I don't make any money from rap
I've written this fiction to make us a map (بميـى بيـى)
This is a place for us when they send us to camps (بميـى بيـى)
They tell us we're niche, we're the niche for His lamp
Mistook blood for trust, mistook them for us
Tell me why's "Allah" so angry with us
I know I fucked up, which sin did he clock (بميـى بيـى)
A slave to his will, a slave to my cock
So believe all that you see of us in that news (بميـى بيـى)
Say we might sneak up and feel up your boo
Dilute your gene pool and steal all your food
Same song on rotation, they wheel up the truth (و اه، كـيـا بــات بـے)
Glass on the shop floor
Hearts all cardboard
Pakis recycled
My face on the dartboard (بميـى بيـى)
Bullshit, bullseye
Quick little facelift
Quick little Michael
I fucked your mum, how the fuck am I racist
Riz not a spaceship, I'll rep us in stages (بميـى بيـى)
Blackie then Paki, then terrorist, same shit
Like cruising a ring road, stopped at old places
Ladies he laid with but fuck can you blame him
She likes the handcuffs, and we're locked in cages
Holla for models, voluptuous vapours
All I can eat while I'm on this vacation
All he can take 'fore it breaks him
"Ya Rasool Salam Alayka"
"Ya Habib Salam Alayka"
"Salavat Allah Alayka"