From West 10 to the West Bank,
I write righteous rhymes with my right and wrestle the devil with my left hand,
Never work for a Zionist, never been a yes man,
My art is like Rembrandt painting pictures of death camps.
The average person is allergic to the words of wisdom,
This is for everyone of Saddamās Kurdish murder victims,
And all the pure souls that never had the chance to speak,
Truth pumps in my arteries and causes my heart to beat.
For soldiers haunted and tortured by guilty memories,
Who realised too late, to reveal their real enemy.
Itās all dead wrong, For every victim of racist persecution,
From Auschwitz to Hebron. My words may sting cowards,
For people that were atomised by the Thermate in the Twin Towers,
Those living through the wars, ask me what I do this for;
Put the world in its place, before it put you in yoursā¦
Keep my third eye hidden under my New York fitted,
A crazy unmarried man that deserves to be committed.
The future is encrypted in my troubled lyrics,
Dream that Iāve been somewhere for weeks, then wake up in a couple minutes,
Sweat dripping with visions of population control,
Thoughts overflowing my world, like the melting of the North Pole.
My people are targeted by military crack committees,
So Iām bucking at the feds like natives in Rapid City.
Reality savage, my words are like a riot in Paris,
The voice of the voiceless, that voice is social imbalance.
So stand strong, or sit harder in your mental palace,
Blinded inside a Kingdom united to its old habits,
But now, Middle Passage coming, War Chant, African drumming,
Gatling gun humming; Rapid fire mechanism, reckless living,
That checks the rhythm of perfectionism,
Slave condition - while youāre singing āGod save the systemāā¦
Detain my body, but you canāt imprison my mind,
If itās my time Iāll probably die with my fist in the sky,
These are the thoughts of a man who canāt escape from his coma,
Cries of a young virgin girl who got raped by them soldiers.
Birthing a screaming bastard post-colonial nation,
Subject to childhood diseases, famine, war and inflation,
Education moulded you into your masters image,
And you forgot who the fuck you were, before the war was finished.
Youāre hearing the ghosts of Nagasaki, Youāre hearing Hiroshima,
Beautiful babies being born with the weirdest features,
You might never see me in the charts, But iA my seed can see peace in Iraq.
But peace and freedom can never be given,
Thatās historically forbidden, ācos only collision is the recipe,
Changing the course of destiny - so Iām strapped with weaponry.
āCause the government donāt give a fuck about protecting me.
What happens under darkness shall come to light,
Canāt silence us even though you try.
You can try to avoid us but itās pointless,
You can never avoid the voices of the voiceless.
Take our freedom, Canāt take our pride,
Come what may we will survive.
You can try to avoid us but itās pointless,
You can never avoid the voices of the voiceless.
Lowkey - Voices of the Voiceless (ft. Immortal Technique)
