I was born and raised in a place
where torn of flame would place
where the foreigners not embrace
where they warn you jog and pace
where loners low what they gaze
where the corners slow at a chase
where they tarts and turn in the maze
with the pistol upon your face
(runtaa hadii kale waxaan lahaa aaheey)
so come with me to my longs
the death and deal we run
with passion see how I come
no cash I am free in the slums
The past can we overcome
I am asking we be the ones
To actually be the ones
To free our people from gun.
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