Rise of the Ancients

[Intro] [Verse 1] These city blocks talk — listen close, you hear ghosts, Politicians sell prayers but they p****n the most. Fiddle cries bleed like sirens at night, Guembri heartbeat keeps the struggle in sight. Concrete jungle, same chains in disguise, From Fez to Dublin, same tears in the eyes. Qraqeb ticking, like the clock on parole, Every bar spit is a f***t for the soul. [Hook] “Éirigh arís, éirigh arís” “Rouh, rouh, rouh” Boom-bap sermons carved deep in the stone, Truth in the music that the empire disowns. [Verse 2] Truth buried in files they keep classified, While the rich toast wine and the poor just survive. Fiddle notes weep like the mothers in grief, Every guembri pluck is rebellion’s belief. Same devils in suits, new wars on the screen, But the chant cuts through — you know what it means. The street is the temple, the mic is the priest, Every rhyme is a weapon for the ones deceased. [Bridge] Deals in the dark — paper trails in the smoke, Generations inherit the system they broke. But the music don’t bow, it exposes the crime, Gnawa and Celtic keep the rhythm in time. [Final Verse] Helicopters hover like vultures in skies, Cameras on poles watching every disguise. History repeats, different mask, same face, Different empire, same chains, same place. From Morocco sands to Belfast streets, B***d paints the fiddle, resistance repeats. The chant is a weapon, the b**t is the proof, Hip-hop is the gospel they could never remove. [Outro]