Danika House

[Intro: Masikah] Bismillah, ha ha, yeah MB, Mas, can’t believe we at it again You know, ABC Life, R2I Yeah, I hope you’re ready, haha, yo, let’s go, yo [Verse 1: Masikah & Muslim Belal] Back when I was a yute, the brother never had a lot Now I’m tryna swing my sword, cammin' up Back then, I was a yute man having shots Like pen on Eid, it’s my go, have a shot I used to know nuff man would smash a rabala Bare robberies, know they’re behind the slammer shut We used to jam and plot, amped up, stackin guat We used to beat down cops, round here on our block And now the dawah pops I know you see it blud You might switch to this ting from tryna be a thug That was yesterday, when the trap had man getting paid Dunya and akhirah, now I seek a better way The uncle says I talk too much about where I’m coming from You might have a nephew on the same path I was on But you can’t relate when he tells you that he has a gun You might get vexed and send the yute back to Pakistan And we don’t have imaan We ain’t shy anymore, we used to conceal our sins Now, we don’t eye it no more We used to have modesty, and keep our eyes on the floor Now, we all up in the grill like we buying Lahore I’m on my face, I ain’t talking bout being broke People I knew, made their way off of weed and coke I had to change, I knew I couldn’t take this deen for joke I fear Allah, bro I ain’t tryna see the smoke Black emirati, front row, say suttin I get it in bro, I can see the grave coming Nuff of them hate our Roadside2Islam Does it hate the brothers, not the da’wah brother, to islam Chasing the dunya, was something that I would do Now you can’t catch the big man, without wudhu It’s only Allah and his Rusool S-W-A-S, I came dressed my brother stay fresh Protect my heart from diseases, Latex I might be the one who Allah decrees the grave next So I get the ajr in early, paycheck Now look who I’ve become, bro, everyday I push the sinning to the back Now I’m living in Salat (Pray Hard) And there’s no more sitting in them traps With a Guinness and a strap (Changed paths) I really thought I was winning then in flats But my thinking then was gassed My soul is on a roadtrip, every minute is a crash The success is in the failing, so I’ve been in here from scratch [Verse 2: Muslim Belal] Yo, MB, Yo Well, I’m a black Kunta Kinte House slave, field slave Young Daniel-san and Muhammad is my sensei I was spending money in Versace and Fendi Now I’m getting new Emiratis, tailor-made I was drinking Moët & Chandon in the partay Now I’m third row in Acton, praying qiyam layl You can hear my brothers’ passion, by the Ameens When you hear ‘Free Filistin’, watch the room scream Light on this journey, I don’t even need a bag All I need’s shahadah on my sword like a Saudi flag Beard on my chin, Muslim when I roll up Yemeni scarf, and my tracksuit bottoms rolled up They can look and laugh, but we know when this is all up Who Allah ?, face is darkened, whose is glowing up I’m on this thing till I’m older In'shaa'Allah, stay on deen like a soldier You’re looking at a young son of Adam, father of Sumaya Mirror to my brother, Black slave of Allah Leader for the younger, follower of Sa7abah Muslim Belal named after Ibn Rabaa7 Mother was a struggler, daddy was a hustler Raised in the south, in the centre of the gutter Now I can see more than the world they put in front of me Praise to the Lord, fortunate, look what he’s done for me They used to call me Smalls, now it’s Muslim Now I’m left thinking bout this life and what it could’ve been All of this around me, trust me, I weren’t expecting I’m standing in the mosque, shoes off with my bredrin, you listening I came a long way, Islam isn’t easy If Muslim I didn't have to be, I wouldn’t have been believe me Sometimes, I’m waking up to pray, eyes are all sleepy Allah doesn’t need me but I need him, trust me Heaven is a must-be, open up the doors for me MB, Masikah, man…