33 / Abdul Abdullah Interlude

[Intro]
Papertoy on the beat

[Chorus: Omar Musa]
Yeah, thirty-three, the year I got crucified
Thirty-three, I life it like it’s do or die
Yeah, thirty-three, like Pippen in his prime
Thirty-three, the game’s all mine
Heads up (Northside), Heads up (Southside)
Heads up ([?]), Heads up (QBN)
Heads up (Struggle town), Heads up (Syd city)
A king’s not a king ‘til his throat get cut

[Verse 1: Omar Musa]
Let the water in the bath go cold now
The chain around my neck rose gold, now
The devil got me in a chokehold, but I’m never tappin’ out
It’s a fight for my soul, now
Me vs me like Pacquiao, Morales
Packin’ out the seats like Pacquiao and Márquez
See ‘em backin’ up when I’m blackin’ on a beat
Blacked out when I’m bangin’ on a bar (What the fuck?)
And I slept with four different women last week
‘Cause I’m reckless, sniffin’ the Charlie, I can’t sleep
It’s a death wish, how I’m livin’ life full-bore
I’d rather have love but you can’t win ‘em all
Nah, so I shimmy, shimmy, yah
Sittin’ pretty with a neighbourhood star
Gold leaf gutter like a QBN Nas
Product of the prayers that I buried in my scars

[Chorus: Omar Musa]
Thirty-three, the year I got crucified
Thirty-three, I life it like it’s do or die
Yeah, thirty-three, like Pippen in his prime
Thirty-three, the game’s all mine
Heads up (Northside), Heads up (Southside)
Heads up ([?]), Heads up (QBN)
Heads up (Struggle town), Heads up (Syd city)
A king’s not a king ‘til his throat get cut

[Verse 2: Omar Musa]
When the government hates you and you hate yourself
Then who gives a fuck about a rap battle? (Not us)
See, I come from a town where the people get down
And we pray into the profane chapel (Dear God)
There are trolleys in the river, there is ice in the lungs
Dice get spun for the right to the wronged
Man said “We are just a sum of our sums” (True)
White hot sun, let ‘em come when they come (Oof)
Scope on my head and that was post 9/11
Now it’s no half steppin’ on a road so crooked (Uh, uh, uh)
Unholy weddin’ when you married to oppression
Gotta choose your weapon, it’s the ballot or the bullet

[Interlude: Malcolm X]
It’s the ballot or the bullet, it’s liberty or death. It’s freedom for everybody or freedom for nobody

[Verse 2 (Cont.): Omar Musa]
Am I conscious? (Tell me) Am I full of shit? (Tell me)
Am I complex? (Tell me) Am I losin’ it?
I’m the high hat, highway fugitive
Got a fuckin’ migraine, high grade, [?]
Yeah, crooked teeth, illegible storms behind ‘em (Oof)
Spit ‘em in your face so you lighten up
Look at me, a diet of two minute ramen
Got the hunger in my belly so I tighten up
Tighten up
Tighten up
Tighten up
Got the hunger in my belly so I tighten up

[Bridge: Omar Musa]
Yeah, where my alley cats?
Yeah, where my motherfuckin’ scallywags? (Where they at, man?)
Where my people sittin’ pretty in a strobe lit city?
Poppin’ bottles on the bonnet of a paddy wag (Wah, wah)
Uh, where my-where my outsiders? (Yeah)
Yeah, where my motherfuckin’ outliers? (Where they at?)
To my people gettin’ down in a fever dream town
That are laughin’ in the face of the hellfire
Uh

[Interlude: Abdul Abdullah]
In the popular imagination, we are the bad guy. You look at Muslims in this country, you look at Muslims since 2001, we are number one bad guy in the newspaper, in fuckin’ television. We’re demonised. There’s a ‘them’ and a ‘us’, and we are put firmly in the ‘them’ box, man