[Verse 1: Raƒi]
The black mane, the kovu, on the dark side of the pride lands/
On the art side of this diagram, this apartheid of the poor man/
We see the world's wretched, never the food/
Carrion fetching, but to many perry's perfection/
Be it Luke or Rick, seeing clips full of glitz/
Full of sh**, they want hits, I'd rather be Stieglitz/
Gather for these hits, for the proud, no need to chit/
Live our way, everyday, naturally, stay away/
[Hook: Raƒi]
No need for Cobaine or propane to bomb them/
Alarm them, never know we're off the chain/
Never know we're on a chain, pride mane/
A proud mane, so clean gain/
[Verse 2: Raƒi]
Young lame, saw himself as young lamb/
Easterners they eat him, Stanley's job is k** him/
Why does no one feel him? Kovu's okay, lions go to Hill man/
Time will always heal man, f** giving them space/
Boot strap pulling, now we're pulling lace/
All they've got is laces, sometimes just a toe hair/
Cos got them screwed up, signs are really there/
Tangents, we don't care. Dammit should I share?
Spend it all on hair and boots, coupes, fleece, and bleach/
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Raƒi]
One game, one play, yellow prey, how you say?
He takes off, a fly day/
Consignment on one leg, alignment he finds it/
Refines it through practice/
His battles, too tragic. Lamb calls it magic/
The lion, a hat trick, he casts it...way below him/
My God, can you find him? Sharp, but he don't bite him/
He stabs, dodging lion with jabs, to take him back/
To the promised land. The Lamb calls him cursed/
The talented burst, no one challenged it first/
To breed, to breed, to breed
[Hook (x2)]