If Blood Makes The Man by MC Grand #sosolid
From my roots in Portugal, they set sail, claimed new lands, left a crimson trail. First came the swords, then the crosses fell, maps were drawn where our blood would swell. Took with force, never gave a thing back, planted flags where the earth turned black. Donβt speak of power like itβs pristineβmineβs soaked in fire, salt, and steam. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause] From my Angolan side β they broke through chains, endured the whips, the colonial reigns. Taken from home, still stood proud, fists were small but spirits loud. Raids and revolts lit the flame, they bled for the names that still claim fame. That struggle lives deep in my skin, I donβt fold β I grind to win. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause] With my Cape Verdean blood, they worked dry stone, hardship carved in flesh and bone. Hustled with smarts, flipped dust to gold, malandros moved fast, their legends told. Smiled through droughts, danced through pain, sang in Creole to stay sane. Poor in coins but rich in soul, born to survive, born to roll. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause] My French roots marched through revolt, stormed through chains, broke the cult. βLibertΓ©β rang through cellblock cries, justice hung under bleeding skies. From noble fire and rebel screams, I took their fight and kept their dreams. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause]
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From my roots in Portugal, they set sail, claimed new lands, left a crimson trail. First came the swords, then the crosses fell, maps were drawn where our blood would swell. Took with force, never gave a thing back, planted flags where the earth turned black. Donβt speak of power like itβs pristineβmineβs soaked in fire, salt, and steam. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause] From my Angolan side β they broke through chains, endured the whips, the colonial reigns. Taken from home, still stood proud, fists were small but spirits loud. Raids and revolts lit the flame, they bled for the names that still claim fame. That struggle lives deep in my skin, I donβt fold β I grind to win. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause] With my Cape Verdean blood, they worked dry stone, hardship carved in flesh and bone. Hustled with smarts, flipped dust to gold, malandros moved fast, their legends told. Smiled through droughts, danced through pain, sang in Creole to stay sane. Poor in coins but rich in soul, born to survive, born to roll. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause] My French roots marched through revolt, stormed through chains, broke the cult. βLibertΓ©β rang through cellblock cries, justice hung under bleeding skies. From noble fire and rebel screams, I took their fight and kept their dreams. [pause] If blood shapes the man β then what am I? A storm in my veins, with truth in my eyes. No need for boasting β I just lay down the facts, my ancestors weathered both fire and axe. [pause]
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