Доаѓаат Оскарите: Долгото збогување на Риз Ахмед (видео)


Риз Ахмед го запознавме во ( ако не се култни тогаш сигурно добро познати ) филмови како Патот до Гвантанамо, Тришна, Џејсон Борн, но и комедијата Четирите Лавови и во серијата Девојки. Исто толку успех - не само како актер - има и во рапот (Riz MC ) чии стихови може да стојат независно како поезија… Оваа разноврсност кулминира во краткиот филм “Долгото збогување“ (истоимен со неговиот албум) а сцената со која се затвора филмот е “филувана” со моќните стихови на “Од каде си?” која може да се најде на албумот. Сега е веќе два пати номиниран за Оскар (сега и во 2021 за Звукот на металот).



(ги оставивме линковите до Genius за контекст):

They ever ask you, "Where you from?"

Like, "Where you really from?"

The question seems simple, but the answer's kinda long

I could tell 'em Wembley, but I don't think that's what they want

But I don't wanna tell 'em more, 'cause anything I say is wrong

Britain's where I'm born, and I love a cup of tea and that

But tea ain't from Britain it's from where my DNA is at

And where my genes are from, that's where they make my jeans and that

Then send them over to NYC, that's where they stack the P's and that

Skinheads meant I never really liked the British flag

And I just got the shits when I went back to Pak

And my ancestors Indian, but India was not for us

My people built the West, we even gave the skinheads swastikas

Now everybody everywhere wantin' their country back

If you want me back to where I'm from, then bruv, I need a map

Or if everyone just gets their shit back, then that's bless for us

You only built a piece of this place, bruv, the rest was us

Maybe I'm from everywhere but nowhere

No man's land, between the trenches, nothing grows there

But it's fertilized by the brown bodies fought for you in the wars

So when I spit, a poppy grows there

Yeah, I make my own space in this business of Britishness

Your question's just limiting, it's based on appearances

Stop trying make a box for us

I'll make my own and break your poxy concept of us

Very few fit these labels, so I'm repping for the rest of us

Who know that there's no place like home and that stretches us

Who code switch, so don't piss me off with cricket tests for us

Or question us about our loyalty, our blood and sweat's enough

Born under a sun that you made too hot for us

Kidnapped by empire and diaspora fostered us

Raised by bhangra, garage and halal Southern fried chicken shops

A junglist, a jungli, I'm Mowgli from The Jungle Book

I'm John Barnes in the box, I blaze hard after mosque

I bend words like Brown and West until they just spell "What"

My tribe is a quest to a land that was lost to us

And it's name is dignity, so where I'm from is not your problem, bruv

Долгото збогување: