Akala, MC Marechal - Akala & MC Marechal freestyle - Westwood lyrics

Sorry kids let me apologize
Before I go further
Unfortunately I don’t rap about
How many men I've murdered
You may find it boring
Appalling and I ain’t scoring braps
From your little rat packs
For just stating facts
Lack not the ability to kill a man lyrically
Just thought that killing
Shouldn't be glorified, silly me
Apparently murdering man has
Become an aspiration
But what would happen if
You reversed the situation?
Black rappers claiming they clap a
Black in the face
Talked about killing white people as much
Would they still get embraced?
Or would you find the applauding
Would quickly turn to appalling
You got no career by the next morning
I ain’t saying you should do that
It is true that would be just as dumb
I am just pointing out how
Absurd that it has become
If a Chinese rapper were to
Say die ‘Chink’ die
Everybody would be like ‘What is
Wrong with this guy?’
But some of us have become so
Accustomed to just behave disgusting
We think it’s just our behavior
And it ain’t worth discussion
Or worse yet that it is cultural expression
But who owns Beretta? and who
Owns Smith and Wesson?
Who owns the car we’re driving
That we think’s defining who we are
Running from ourselves we'll find
There is no hiding
So, boast about your Prada
And your Christian Dior
Still security will follow us when
We're in the store
We can boast about our platinum
Chains and our diamond rings
While kids in Sierra Leone
Keep on losing limbs
Act like you got no brain
We ain’t got no shame
And say so what we're getting dough
But we’re pawns in a game

Who really think they're goons
Real goons don’t wear platinum chains
They wear ties and suit's
They don’t live in estates and sell flake
They invade with guns and tanks
And take a whole state, mate
So pardon me if I don’t find it funny
We boast about it but do we
Even know what is money?
See it’s hard to act dumb when you
Have read a couple hundred books
But still in anybody’s hood so
Tell me who is shook?
When you've been to Brazil and
Stood in favela streets
Next to kids holding hand grenades and M16s
When you come back to London it ain’t serious
The ghetto's in our head, we are delirious
If we lived in a real slum
Without food or running water
Where police drive by and
Kill sons and daughters
We would give our right arm just for
The chance to go to school
Instead what do we do?
The killer the trigger they play the fool
I ain’t saying school is the answer
Let's educate ourselves
See it’s not the money we make
We are the wealth
And I ain’t saying we ain’t got
A struggle right here in Britain
But we're taught to act inferior
And play position perfectly
It’s disturbing me
The verbal murder be absurd to me
Occurred to me if you have not heard of me
Probably 'cuz I don't rap
About Gucci or booty
Quite enough for the urban scene
To really salute me
But, I don’t really care
I’m too busy writing my master thesis
It’s hard to play the stereotype
When you study Egypt
Plus urban scene we’re racist to ourselves
Elevating words of hate we’re
Merely hating ourselves
And if you are musically broad
Or dare to speak intelligent
People look at you like "who the
Hell you think you better than?"
I’m better than no-one on this earth
And I know I’m not
But, I refuse to play small just
To fit in your box
And I don’t hate none of these other rappers
In fact it’s quite the other
Look at me as your bigger wiser older brother
And as a brother should I
Tell you you’re in trouble
If they clap when you’re talking of
Killing do they really love you?
If record label bosses kids were dying
Would they sell us violence
As quickly as they are
Ready to desensitize us?
They tell you to shit on your floor
Holding all the scoops
Throw you a bone like a
Dog jumping through a hoop
Don’t take it as a compliment
'cuz it is not that
If I tell you that you’re African
You tell me it’s not that
Humanity is African even if not black
The truth can be painful
Shh, better stop that it’s so inconvenient
For those at the top that
You talk too much truth
You might just get popped at

I’m done with the lies third eye open
Wide, the tougher that you act
The weaker you really feel inside
So all the killer the trigger
And when we call ourselves
And want platinum chains bigger than jigga’s
It’s just to run from the
Fact that we feel insecure
Get as many things as you
Want but it cannot restore
The core of who you are
Truly that will surpass beauty
That comes from knowledge of ourselves
And a sense of duty
So all my brothers still claiming
That we are thugs
No, if we're honest we just want to be loved
But we feel that we're not worthy
And that we are not smart
So we act aggressive to protect
Our fragile little hearts
But we’ve got to deal with this
Pain or it will consume
That’s enough honesty now lets resume

But inside of yourself you know
That this is real akala this was from SBTV
Double think out now, check the CD
If you want a little
Knowledge bigger than college
I promise you the metaphoric's that
Will offer you solace like
The Great Pyramid alone 23 million stones
If you took them apart and
Placed them in a row they would stretch 2
3 of the way around the earth
That is more stone that there is
In every single British church
Each stone cut to a degree of accuracy of 1
1000 of an inch well what does that mean?
In 1978 the Japanese ran
An experiment to rebuild
Them with modern technology
And failed terribly
But anyway that’s enough for today