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lirik lagu indian man – shivam

[skit: mangal panday + british officer]

bol tu kutta hein!
bol tu kutta hein!
tu kutta hein

[verse: shivam]
hahahahahaha
(missile launch)
no choice left cuz this boy’s a threat
but like royce said
“i’d rather get hit with a patriot missile
than be out here exhibitin’ patriotism”
i’d state this vision and get straight to dissin’
racist bigots with their racist agendas
made this pretender, face his dementors
dealin’ with 80 percent o’ them on this track
and put this rap into prac*tice
for all the times i was severely doubted
fights over a decent livin’ house and
1149 dupont st whеre demons started boucin’
was thinkin’ o’ dеnouncin’ these round clips
dad’s profound tips had no effect on me back then
gotta admit they went over my head
but sound deep now and
every piece o’ advice i can scrounge up to scour earth
my blessings i’m countin’
as i walk on this land in the midst o’ the valley o’ darkness
that chips no value o’ darkness
they get to bark and call you a dog outside
the class that’s ‘posed to have your best interests at heart man
word to todd ha*mmond for makin’ me into this man
who speaks his mind in these times
theatre farces for the greater part werent made our people
where are the courses that teach my people’s plight?
something tells me our backs breakin’
workin’ at gas stations till late chilly nights
their likes stand out like a sore thumb
but i expect these b*tches who be okay with foursomes
who grew up with no true morals in a rude
abnormal household
who be virtue signallin’ round the clock
but keep their true feelings on the down low
the rogue media spins this
buncha comedians gigglin’ at their own jokes
black man was born broke
why the f*ck they don’t own stores
like indians?”
but indians bein’ painted as racists
divisions came in and tainted us as we face this
political commentary, oh literal tom and jerry
cat and mouse is what this game is
they say i don’t belong in this house
but what can these fools tell me
when i was born with a crown on my head
they tryna get me to believe this narrative
that i’ma terrorist
but they can do lil to this felt tip
did you felt it?
cuz i jot sh*t and sound like a prophet
got real keys to unlock this door
if not with a lockpick, ye i’m the locksmith
fly as f*ck ever since i got myself into this c*ck pit
this is real sh*t from a lyricist
you b*tches clearly miss, erry lyric we spit
this pad is high on a philly spliff
and yo’ head is really dense
i’m a d*ck and my pen is c*cked
soon as i open a bar up i’m sendin’ shots
emcees like “god please make it stop!”
sissy that’s hip hop
homies like man promise me
we’ll bring hip hop back on it’s feet
still wring rip offs, smack ’em and stomp their t**th
the way we said f*ck it to that d*mn college degree
ya’ll stuck on google all day, guess knowledge is free
from me luck was kool moe dee, well
knowledge is king
all ’em punks wan’ know how i turned so dope
overnight how i earned gold ropes
on my life, at the same time
there was a time this chump was slow
one must go in everyday and shovel snow
when a brother’s broke
but then i look back at my bank account and
told that b*tch man get to countin’
word to jordan who’s recordin’ me
torturin’ schemes fortunately lord kept these
feet on the floor as i’m scorchin’ emcees
so detractors and these actors
can act accordingly if they ain’t supportin’ me
this my last warnin’ ‘fore we
get into more corny beefs, yo jordy keep
capturin’ my vocals, make ’em profound and clear
george brown is rea*lly a slave owner
while ya’ll afraid o’ the ‘rona
for me those days are gona
and f*ck the canadian flag if ya’ll laughin’
cuz some indian kept yappin’ and made a sad face
when all i wanted to do was actin’
but i stayed at it, i stayed rappin’
face tractions, break fractions
navigate it like it’s a map and
found my ways through this rap game
f*ck we think, racism runs deep in ya’lls history
you don’t know that
any book won’t show that
where’s that co*rs* course at?
rode on hors*m*n like bojack
rope on my bro’s neck and a toetag
they shoved a jagged edged pill down
jagmeet singh’s throat inside the parliament
and ya’ll crooks ignored that
treat views like doormats
says we welcome, soon as we enter
we get torn in half
you a shook one if you born black
if you indian, you drove cabs
if you native, woah f*ck that
liberals don’t hold back
conservatives like man, “but they sold crack!”
but then i see j.cole bein’ called an a*hole
by a no name chick
for sayin’ some ill sh*t on a track
that’s a whole name flip
ye it’s a noname chick who chose fame which
won’t stay or sit, it’s a trendin’ topic and
ima walk all over it like i’m diddy boppin’
cuz it’s the same ol’ sh*t
root o’ the evil’s money, lookin’ at the cheese
sh*t’s scummy but it’s a rapper’s code
stacks o’ dough makin’ me have some black thoughts
can’t match tropes, but he slaps hoes
who plague this half souled society
but they finna say i’m interferin’ with their grand struggle
liberals and their d*mn bubbles
“go back to your country you indian!”
oh canada! you promised to ban the racists
oh canada! my homies showed me to what the span o’ the hate is
average joes i ran into were awfully snakey
as i start to conquer my existence
in this instance
i’m fightin’ for my rights on this earth
i feel like mark saunders as i start to ponder
the f*ck is our role in this b*tchass hypocrisy
does this place even need 24 year old socrates?
this story actually as dark as gone girl
now the song turns into some real sh*t
hate to admit it, come to think o’ve it
immigrants can lose it all in a blink o’ve it
you deny us our history, not try and acknowledge it
see my colour, treat me a certain way
you been taught by these colleges
but then we retaliate on a track
and get a target drawn on our backs
but canada’d rather bicker ’bout what happens down south
than address what happens up in this clown house
they got their trudeau ass to kiss
star wars socks ya know, they have to pick
pseudo activists runnin’ their loud mouths
so motherf*ckers can feel great up on their high horses
f*ckers took five courses on the lives o’ bipocs and
they think they know more ’bout us than ourselves
life o’va brown man that the crown sha*ckled
back when their history books got denounced and heckled
cuz they said half the truth
mahatma gandhi is our bapu
but ya’ll be plantin’ seeds o’ doubts there too
had to hold my true calling for so long
like a phone receiver
my sh*t’s engagin’ cuz i got all the bars
and got dope reception so far
i hold all the cards to these simps
but sometimes i go too far
when my rage is off the charts
what else you expect from a brown mozart
i just dunno how some o’ you b*tches can be so dumb woke and evil
hidin’ under theatre masks actin’ all civil
but then be like f*ck those d*mn people
and creepy indians
and when you get showed the purest facts
sure as that, would’ve been better if you gave me no help at all
f*ck a deep inspirational quote
i’d rather f*ckin’ be a rich inspirational bloke
oh and for a bigger part ima bigot’s target
in these freedom lands and
i’m a hindu god who’s been too long
in the booth, talkin’ his truth off
holdin’ the mic like my trishula
been learnin’ their trade, invadin’ their base
as i walk in a heathen’s market
raisin’ stakes as i’m sellin’ hate as a bitter artist
no filler bars still, ya’ll can pick apart and
see
i beg your pardon?
i don’t use ten dollar words to try to sound smart and
i just choose fill up he*rs*s and oh my the sky is now darkenin’
they didn’t see this indian comin’, they never do
“yeah we the north!”, what b*tch you want a medal too?
shut the f*ck up!
my pen’ll never be half c*cked
so ima leave ya’ll with one last thought
put these d*mn rhymesheets under a microscope
when you tryna cope, may you find some hope
remember what an indian said in his writings
he tried it the canadian way
but the canadians didn’t like it

- shivam

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