Lyrics

Came a long way from guns and roses. I was on them streets till Islam. Now I'm standing up like a soldier. Still greet my brother with a palm. Waiting on judgement day. Could have died in them streets we used to play. But now we changed. We praise his name Allah. Allah. Cause now we changed. We praise his name Allah. Allah. Cause now we changed. The streets raised me but Allah changed me. Outside the mosque looked like ministry. And on the street rack you saw some worn soles. I chased a Nike Air Max and Valentinos. Allah placed some guidance in the ghetto. Targeted the gangster youths walking round with metal. And now they grow their beards, wrapping mamas and white thobes. Yardie boys walking round in Arab clothes. I love Pablo and Sosa. Now it's Khaled bin Walid and Abu Dhahtar. And in this world full of Kim K's. I try to find myself Khadija. And I don't mean a sister that's a vlogger. Nah. I mean the one that's hidden like a treasure. Bruh. Our women used to hide behind closed doors. Now they're all on insta fighting for exposure. A new gal that took their clothes off for a 20 note. Now they walk past you in the road you wouldn't even know. Velled up. Letterbox flow. We changed up. Go let the world know. And I didn't make these drastic changes all alone. There's a million of us revert brothers from some broken homes. Roadside to Islam. This is block Dawa. Ayo. Give Salam. Picture this. Black youth. Wickedness. Trap food. Pretty chicks with strap shoe. Snitches quick. Flip a brick. Ignorance. Illegal lifestyle. I pleaded innocence. Dark hallways and dirty blocks. Serving shots. Swerving in the plot. Dark water in my veins I'm out. Spliff lazy in my mouth. I lean like he's about. Tough ham. My whole life was a vicious circle. I never felt safe. Concealing my blade. In case I had to work you. And have you ever felt squeezed by the evil. From the deeds we repeated on these streets that deceive you. I weren't satisfied no matter what. Big hole in my heart. And nothing I did could fill the spot. My Shahada took that. None worthy of worship but Allah. Men ruling mad till I know. Left the crooked path. Sacrificed my ignorance to go and look Allah. I'm like Australia put together that got took apart. And the block stays Muslim you know. It's hard to see. White Thorpe brown sandals. Sipping Somali tea. Islam is deep. No need for me to play the pharmacy. Humble with me and Sajud. This is the path for me. I could take you on a journey of these last ten years. Or I could take it right back to the nights of tears. I was a little boy in the block saying the our father. Went to the binging and came out with Shahada. Manned them on the block. They were trapping much harder. I was on the block y'all with cracks and toolies. They can't believe it's that same boy rocking the kufi. How I changed my life round from rolling with live rounds. Took a trip to Egypt. Walked on pure ground. Came back homes with a new lease of life. The boy stayed like a FIFA night. Didn't want to go back to my old ways. Back to them old days. Tell the man them won't celebrate birthdays. Sitting in the mash then I'm waiting for Salat to come. Brotherhood is crazy from the first night of Ramadan. Ramadan. Heard some truth brothers. My change from dirt to deans. My true colours. It was a battle of the soul on the street. Now I glide through the sunnah. Going through cold on my feet. Shaitan struck fast like a cobra with speed. Got my dunya over my deen. Divided me from the ummah minus Tawheed. That equals Jahannam's fire upon me. Born Muslim. I did some things that I can't believe. Exposed my sins. Now that's haram you see. But now I changed. Wrapped a hijabi queen. Following the path of the salafus saleheen. I love salafiyah. Trying to be upon that manhaj. While stacking my pee up. So I can take my little man aj. It's all mad. Been humble. Following role models like Ahmed. Been humble. Vague and translucent. I was raised in confusion. A young youth introduced into an institution. Going restless. No rest. Always looking for restitution against the constitution. Keeping me in destitution. Out late nights. Fighting in the streets. Distributing. Slowly losing every attribution. Which kept me human. Choosing a game with no winners. Just sinners who finish as bigger losers. I couldn't do this. Nah. Now I'm far from the best Muslim. But when I feel shaitan pulling. Best believe I keep pushing. But now I feel a surge in my veins. When I read the words on that page. Lead lure me out the maze. Through the hurt and the pain. Through the dirt and the rain. Unburden all this rage. And let it burn in the flame. So we must learn from these chains. You are the bird. Not the cage. And I don't know if I've changed. But I'm certainly not the same.