About the song
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Words from the artist’s archive
RAZOR'S EDGE lyrics
Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.
Read the lyric sheet
Intro
One land, two cries—caught beneath the holy sun, Story carved in borders where the rivers run. No filters here—just boots, bricks, and breath, Both sides bled ink where the drums spell death.
Verse 1
[P:] 1948, we was scattered like vinyl skips, Keys to homes still dangle from grandmother’s lips. Refugee tents to tight blocks, no lights, No state, just fate and resistance nights. [I:] Same year, birth of a homeland dream, Holocaust scars in a sabra scream. From ashes to IDF pride, We built outta grief, and refused to hide. [P:] Bulldozers hum like bassline lows, Tears drip slow where the olive tree grows. [I:] Rockets rain down on playground slides, Our kids wear fear like bulletproof guides.
Chorus
Two truths, one trap—history don’t sync clean, Looped in the booth, but the pain too mean. Heartbeat divided by a border drawn tight, They say war writes verses—but who holds the mic? Whose holy land? Whose promised dream? Two different stories from the same damn stream. Got my back to the wall, got my feet on the edge, Writin' our history on a razor's edge.
Verse 2
[P:] Checkpoint blues, we spit through wire, Every delay feeds the freedom fire. Dignity sold for a UN meal, Still we rhyme in ruins, still we feel. [I:] Sirens sing where lullabies should be, Kibbutz dreams framed by an RPG. We hustle tech, we hustle hope, Legacy coded in survival's scope. [P:] Gaza caged, like beats in a vault, Blackouts drop, no one claims the fault. [I:] Bus bombs left us pieces to clean, Now our grief rhymes lean, mean, unseen.
Bridge
Spin it back to Balfour’s pen, Lines drawn by men who ain’t never bled then. From stones to drones, we remix pain, Two peoples praying in the same domain.
Verse 3
[P:] 2023, we still scream “exist,” Airstrikes kiss towers like a devil’s twist. Trauma loops like a cursed drum kit, Every ceasefire just a brief remix. [I:] October flashbacks, nightmares raw, We bleed for peace but prepare for war. Funerals and flags dance in the street, Bar mitzvah joy meets eulogy beat. [P:] Boy with a book bag turned to a blaze, Martyrdom’s a hook in the songs we raise. [I:] Soldier with tears buried in sand, Wishing no trigger touched his hand.
Chorus
Two truths, one trap—history don’t sync clean, Looped in the booth, but the pain too mean. Heartbeat divided by a border drawn tight, They say war writes verses—but who holds the mic?
Outro
No bridge built from blame alone, Truth ain’t yours or mine—it’s stone. If we ever vibe peace to a final track, It starts with pain, and never turns back.
Inside the recording
One land, two cries—caught beneath the holy sun, Story carved in borders where the rivers run.
Two truths, one trap—history don’t sync clean, Looped in the booth, but the pain too mean.
No bridge built from blame alone, Truth ain’t yours or mine—it’s stone.
Excerpts from artist-supplied lyric files matched by title. Lyric sheets may differ from the released performance.