Zeke (ZMan) Mandela's Journal

Sanctuary

The fockin' government, and the devil!

A UK Drill song starts playing over the TikTok story: The Zed-Man throws up gangster signs and raps over drill on the rooftop of some apartment flats. A couple of other gangsters stand behind him.

Listen, man's got a story to tell
'Bout the Devil;  government, who cares? Dey bof from' hell
They pin my hands, my head, control us all
Sendin' mandems on a mission to answer calls

I sign the contract, blood- sell my souls for fame
The end, we're all just playin' their twisted game
Gov'ment owns the Devil, we just pull the strings
Laughin' as we drown in tar, trapped in fucked schemes

Rise up, take back our souls, fight for dem rights
No slaves to the system's sights
Dey have power, but we have will
Mandem rise up! Break the fucking deal!

Beat drops, a demonic beat plays, and the track gets heavy and grunchy.

Man, like the government, watchin' from above
Sellin' us out, for all power, gods show no love
We're pawns in their, disposable tools
Break free, we won't be their fools

Stand tall, united, be one
Defeat the em', set fire to fame, our fight has just begun
Free themselves from all control
Reclaim our freedom, body and soul.

Rise up, take back our souls, fight for dem rights
No slaves to the system's sights
Dey have power, but we have will
Mandem rise up! Break the fucking deal!

Sign the contract, blud- You know who to blame!?
Dem highchair fucks, playin' like they feel no shame!
Gov'ment owns the Devil, but dis is Hell
Laugh, drown in tar, fuckin' yell-

Brr Brr Brr 

Rise up, take back our souls, fight for dem rights
No slaves to the system's sights
Dey have power, but we have will
Mandem rise up! Break the fucking deal!

Stand tall, united, be one
Defeat the em', set fire to fame, our fight has just begun
Free themselves from all control
Reclaim our freedom, body and soul!

 

Highway to Heaven

We in it Fam

Opera starts, the beat slow and methodical.

 

I did this before...

Vaguely, barely what you'd call a metaphor.

Straight line, the task ahead.

Don't skip town, it said, don't be scared... (Yeh)

Take this bread, make a meal

Didn't think this was part of the deal...

 

The beat stops, the opera continues. Rising, higher, tensing up as if crying towards the Heavens... Then stop.

 

And I'm like: fuck this, man... Again? Haha... Yeah, you best know—

 

The Opera reaches a high and the beat drops. The pace is faster.

 

It's no time for grace, yet-

Stuff's in the back, consider that fact

(Checked)

Got Four shites under star lights

Blud came outta nowhere, we just said "A'ight"

(Night— Bitch!)

 

Spitting the fire, like dey say in the eighties.

Come at me fam, come at my mates, please-

What?

 

Beat stops.

You think you can chase us, blud?

 

Beat comes back hard.

You serious?

Nah, fam, you'll be a deadman. Period.

 

It's a real tough life, innit?

You say your prayers, watch Annie spin it.

Granny's long dead, we just passing through,

Cry 'bout it, maybe you'll be dead someday too

Yeah, I'm bloody cry-in',

not for me, but for you—

Got me excit-ed.

 

But now you're back again, fam?

 

Shit. You haven't learnt-

Guess some lessons have to be burned.

Revolve around my revolver round

(Blam Blam)

Say it: you my bitch now—

(Well damn...)

 

You think you can chase us, blud?

You furious? (Hah!)

Messin' with the wrong crowd

Got a word: delirious. (Helll yah!)

 

Now, you caught dead in a ditch,

Afraid, blud? But you got your wish

You're roasting alive and we eatin'

You wanted death, so we set up the meetin'

 

The tempo paces up. 

 

Hit em with the 12 gauge combo (Brr!)

Mix em, voodoo, a dark art gumbo

We ain't playing, we're paid grands

We throw hands, ASL Fam (That's right!)

 

We kill, no kidding- (Haha!)

Call it lucky, but the Doc's in it

Sit and tire, the drift finesse 

Murder the road, call me a witness

 

Okay, one moment (Stop)

Youngblood's got the based movement

 

Put up the track Princess

Look out, say your good graces

Bend over, we're the Beast-ehs?

Mixtape's dirty, but honey we the cleanest—

 

We all, end all, man.

You ain't coming back.

We're done here fam,

Just pick up the slack...

(Yeah, Ha!)

 

The beat stops.

 

We got a UberEats delivery; 100%, A-Grade, Perfection.

 

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