How I Feel: The EP

by Zuby

How I Feel 03:44
Bad Man…chyeeeea! Woo! Bad Man, oh yeah! (that’s how I feel) We got Zuby (yezzir), back in the building (ha ha) AKA The Bad Man, aw it’s been way too long man. What’s up DJ Chris I see you homie! (That’s how I feel, ha ha) Let’s do this, uh (I’m baaack!) I got em. Check it, yo yo If you don’t speak you never lie if you don’t live you never die, life’s a riddle in the middle but it’s easy on the side/ most the people that you meeting are myopically blind (why?) they can only see the ceiling when the limit is the sky/ all my people rise eyes wide put your hands high this is Zuby live third time and dominance is nigh (chyeeea!)/ I’m back and raw bombing it (chyeeea!) back and prominent (chyeeea!)/ still think that I’m great so what I’m lacking ain’t confidence/ oozing in my rhymes because my mind is just conversing and I’m smoothening the lines so whether gunning or rehearsing (uh huh)/ I flow impressively it’s like the verse is so cursive that the second verse is jealous cuz the first was so perfect (ha ha)/ no stammer straight verses check the grammar great wordsmith, go play this to your grandma cuz it’s laced with no curses (no)/ and play it for her daughter she can bang it like a cracker you can take it from your father I’m your momma’s favourite rapper. CHORUS I deserve to take it straight up to the top (that’s how I feel)/ And everybody in the world should give me props (that’s how I feel)/ And you can feel it in my bop I prolly feel myself a lot but if you want to hear the proof just let me talk (that’s how I feel)/ The guys will tell you that I rule and that I rock (that’s how I they feel)/ The girls will tell you that I’m cool and that I’m hot (that’s how they feel) Cuz every show I make it rock and every flow and break is hot but I might never make it pop because I’m not. I graduated from the new school academy with old school mentality a barrist hit the hardest till the booth charging for battery/ psyching off the tether man get ready for this rainstorm need psychics and the weatherman to best predict my brainstorm/ if not don’t even try it, my skill is umm…UNPREDICTABLE a riot chyea I’m killing em (ha ha!)/ see I got more style and more guile a better one than your style a raw style I curb stomp tracks Gears of War style/ witness it spectacular in low time up from zero (woo!) I’m sick with this vernacular it’s show time for dinero/ the lazy prolly lose me to my fans I’m like a hero lyrics vivid like a movie those are hard to find like Nemo (chyea)/ slacking on the backing tracking that’ll never happen ever stacking no financial backing I’ma get it cracking/ I’ve got the hardest grind I’m trying to shine like Liberace, I set my targets high and shoot at stars like paparazzi (chyeeea!) CHORUS Some people say I’m self obsessed cuz I believe in myself, like I don’t care for no one else and I’m just pleasing myself/ these same cats are steady pleading when they’re needing some help, while they’re sitting there and grieving I’m achieving myself/ the antonym of pessimism I believe in myself, there’s no time for skepticism and bereaving yourself/ and either way I’m gonna do it cuz I’m pleasing myself, if no one else is gonna do it I’ll believe in myself/ that’s how I feel. CHORUS That’s how I feel! What more can I say man, that’s how I feel.
Rock Star 04:09
Let’s take it to rock star status baby. Singing ‘when I grow up I just wanna be a rock star!’ CHORUS When I came into the world I was sweeter than a Pop Tart just a little boy didn’t care about a pop chart/ Said my first word then I kissed my first girl singing, ‘when I grow up I just wanna be a rock star!’/ Came into the game and they said I’m going not far now I’m on the stage and they scream like I’m a pop star/ I don’t really care long as people now I’m here/ when I grow up I just wanna be a rock star! Here’s my new year’s resolution hit em with the best vox (yup) vivid high resolution graphical like Xbox (what)/ so just try and ignore me I’ve got patience [patients] like a medic it’s a metaphoric orgy so you all can fricking get it (ha ha)/ attack a track with flack, vocal ammo’s stored there lines refined within my mind it’s like guerrilla warfare/ I know I’m rhyming heat the mic is basically smoking (uh huh) no longer riding beats now we’re practically eloping (uh huh)/ no need to have a ruger lyrically I’m blessed like Judah and you ‘gainst ‘The Total Package’ like you’re flexing with the Luger and I’m talking ‘bout the Lex/ I ain’t talking ‘bout the shooter cuz I don’t respect the tec respect the knowledge like a tutor (chyea!)/ when people crowd around him I astound them with a free they too dumbfound to make a sound so they just nod like Mini Me/ and my sound is in surround vision dynamic to a T so you can see the bigger picture like a panoramic screen. CHORUS What I write is like a vice to crush your head like in ‘Casino’ (yup), you acting I direct the flick like Quentin Tarantino (yup)/ so when you feel the pressure, remember you’re an extra I’m the star in my own movie I don’t do this at my leisure (never)/ I can’t afford to tire stay compulsive like a liar I could burn you like a pyro (woo!) I love to play with fire leave you singing like a choir louder than an amplifier (ha)/ extra tender crispy like they flipped you out the fryer (chyeeea!)/ verses cut through chords stop your flow like a vasectomy, students of my board don’t even dream you could be testing me (no)/ sit back and can it or I’ll put you in detention, the measure of my talent is beyond your comprehension/ average means obscurity that’s something that I overstand and averageness is poor to me I’m comfortable with bigger plans/ if average is maturity then give me Never Never Land cuz averageness is boring me and Zuby is a winner man. CHORUS The norm is to conform and live your life without a risk and so my mind is always torn between a nine-to-five and this/ I’m a natural performer all I do is think of hits, music’s not an easy earner but the glamour and the glitz (what?)/ can make you think that famous is the only thing to be so we strive not to be nameless we all want celebrity/ all we see is big money, big stacks, big jewels, mad honeys, big plaques, big tracks, big crews (chyea!)/ that’s how you want to rock it so you’re glancing in amazement dreams of dancing on red carpet while you’re prancing on the pavement/ and we all love attention but what’s really fascinating is the length that some will go through and that’s simply to obtain it/ stay focused on my dream and too articulate to mumble (yeahhh), too modest to be arrogant too cocky to be humble (yeahhh)/ a different breed of artist I’m the smartest of my pedigree regardless go the farthest that it’s meant to be eventually (chyeeea!). CHORUS Bad Man…rock on baby/ O.X… rock on baby/ London…rock on baby/ B-town… rock on baby/ K.S.A… rock on baby/ Naija… rock on baby/ Worldwide…rock on baby, rock on baby, rock on baby.
Down 03:36
CHORUS Down, down, down, down/ down, down, down, down I keep my grind on to stack neat, time’s on the back seat/ float like a butterfly and sting like a vaccine the black sheep, anomaly, non-grata to the rap scene/ verse is steady cocked already locked receiver smoking don’t put Zuby in a box unless you’re gonna leave it open/ I’m not a conscious rapper I’m a rapper with a conscience, be conscious of the fact you can’t compare to the nonsense/ not a gangster neither I don’t even own a heater, give me a single shot I’ll turn the critics to believers/ no bling but if I rock it then it’s happening to shine, I don’t sing I’m only talking and it’s happening to rhyme/ I don’t think about effects I say whatever’s on my mind, so I never have regrets this is a picture of the time/ a depiction of the time rendered by vision not design you can call it what you want cuz your description’s good as mine/ no encryption in my lines so my inscription is sublime I paint a picture like Picasso when I’m picturing my lines/ and I’m picturing my time and I see Zuby in the limelight a step away from where I am is Zuby in his prime/ so you never bring me... CHORUS I keep my rhymes on a phat beat, grind’s on the back seat/ mind’s on a marathon it’s running like an athlete so every time I rhyme they’re like ‘damn Zuby, that’s heat!’/ asking me to sign and people coming through to dap me everybody backs me and people always ask me/ ‘think you’re gonna make it are you really gonna blow? But if you really want to make it ain’t it really who you know?’/ I’m like, what I’m supposed to make you seen the people at the show? Plus I did this on my j’s so no, Zuby doesn’t blow (no)/ and everybody knows it but some cats don’t want to say it so they’re steadily abstaining talking about I’m overrated/ they must be confused so I wouldn’t say they’re hating they’re just using an excuse I know you people love complaining/ about I’m not original or how I’m apolitical you guys are fricking miserable stop being hypercritical/ spark a true terror with the lead I’ll commit it, Zuby marks a new era over heads like a fitted/ and I’m known to be wicked (chyea), so you critics can kiss it, I barely see my opposition like I’m boxing a midget (chyeeea!)/ so you never see me… CHORUS I gotta rhyme to attract heat, shine’s on the back seat/ flow till I retire till that day I’m aiming higher got the masses to inspire seen the flashes need the fire/ I used to be so quiet as a kid my mouth was shyer now I’m grown I make it known shoot it in public like I’m Dwyer/ I feel it then I say it I conceive then I lay it I believe it when I spray it to achieve and say I made it/ so if you hear me say it best believe that what was stated was my feeling at the time whether it’s moody or elated/ I’m a normal dude (yup) but everybody else is mental cuz we’re living in a world where everybody is judgmental/ cuz if you’re that guy then people think that they’re above you, but if you’re THAT GUY then all the people want to love you/ so get money just don’t waste money showing me you got money (no) and don’t take Zuby for a dummy (ha ha)/ I’m smarter than you’ll ever be and harder than you’ll ever be so mentally or physically ain’t capable of harming me/ lyrically, spiritually, even hypothetically, to know me is to love me if you don’t then just let it be/ that way I’m never… CHORUS Uh huh, chyeeea! Send a little message to all my people out there, everyday people are going to be trying to bring you down. Don’t let it happen. You’re just living your life never see you with a frown every time you’re moving up people want to bring you down, ha ha.
Chilll! 03:44
Chyea, Bad Man! I stay ill. I maintain. I stay real. Bad Man I’m about to get ill yo (chilllll!) Yo, yo Zuby’s smooth, Zuby’s cool, Zuby’s fricking back at it/ Zuby’s proved Zuby rules, Zuby’s so charismatic (ha ha!)/ I’m sick I never lie I’m sort of like a rap addict/ I make moves and multiply I’m sort of like a jackrabbit (oh)/ so if you think I’m wack it’s evident that you don’t know jack/ even deaf cats are saying Zuby’s got dope tracks/ and coasting is a no no (no) heat will keep them bumping me/ rolling on the solo so I stay in decent company (chyea)/ and people keep on pumping me, equally it’s fun to me/ pushing for a cuddle but the beat is making love to me (woo!)/ cruising on the double keep it moving like a shuttle/ you can run your little bars you can’t see me with the Hubble (nah)/ I’m daily trying to dominate like ‘Pinky and the Brain’/ but the ignorant predominate the thinking in this game/ think I’m in a different genus check the sections of my brain, one of them will prove a genius but the other is insane (chyeeea!). CHORUS You know I got game and you know I stay ill (ill) You know I maintain and you know I stay real (real) You’re mad cuz you’re lame and you know I got skills so chilllll! (just chilllll!) Cuz I wanna see sights and I wanna see bills (bills) I wanna be right when I say I’ll see mils (mils) Don’t wanna see spite I just wanna see deals so chilllll! (just chilllll!) Check it, yo! They call me Bad Man I bust flows and dust all suckers I don’t cuss no, but you can sick my duck fothermucker (ha ha!)/ cuz you people want to talk like you know about the ‘Z’ about the ‘U’ about the ‘B’ what you know about me?/ you can sit there on the internet and tap away all day/ behind a screen name but give me dap in the hallway/ mean it from the heart? You can say it to my face/ you’ve got a head start I’m ‘bout to beat you in the human race (chyeeea!)/ lead converts to bars I’m getting better every hit/ A to Z of future stars catch me at letter twenty-six (that’s me!)/ I only know the present but I feel a premonition/ succeeding in this mission with my verbal composition/ no time for superstition catch me running under ladders, spilling salt and breaking glasses while I’m making a toast (uh uh)/ cuz nothing shatters visions so it doesn’t really matter if I break a couple mirrors while I’m making this boast... CHORUS Yo I’m just trying to be a millionaire man, ha ha, check it. I tried to ask the people and then I phoned a friend/ so now it’s 50/50 and I’ve got to apprehend/ how can I be a millionaire without placing a bet and giving everything I’ve got to verses racing through my head?/ they come to me sporadical my thinking semi-radical combine them with the music the result is semi-radical (oh yeah!)/ flow never mechanical actually I’m like an animal/ eat hip hop for breakfast spit the wackness out like Hannibal/ I’ll give my two cents on anybody trying to rattle me and tie up loose ends like the rabbit-hole analogy/ don’t want to be a faker (what?)/ you cats are life haters, the type that cuss your mothers out and fart in elevators (ha ha!)/ me I never stutter keep it simple bread and butter don’t compare to no other cuz I’m Zuby not another (chyeeea!)/ till I reach the heaven phase I’m going to teach like 7th grade, Zuby’s staying strong for years you cats are weak [week] like seven days (woo!) CHORUS (chyeeea!) It’s the Bad Man (chyeeea!), it’s the Bad Man (chyeeea!) It’s the Bad Man (chyeeea!), it’s the Bad Man (chyeeea!) It’s the Bad Man (chyeeea!), it’s the Bad Man, so chilllll! (ha ha ha) Homie chilllll!
July 5 2008, started off as a normal day man to say that things ended up crazy is more than an understatement dude. I don’t even know how to explain it man I’m tired of talking about this but just gotta do it this one last time. So listen up yo. To anyone who knows Zuby he’s a real refined fella he’s a fine rhyme aspiring non-violent fella/ some see him on the grind and they perceive him as a threat but believe me that his mind’s the only weapon I possess/ he’s a connoisseur for music not a connoisseur for tecs/ I don’t need a gun to prove because his words command respect/ but he’s now under surveillance and he’s being assessed/ someone thinks he’s the assailant of a firearm offence/ he’s just chilling with his music doing what he do best/ his pen is racing ‘cross the pad to get my feelings expressed/ when he’s back I’ll hit the gym I’ll do the tris and the chest/ up my bench and hit the dips and build the size with the sets (chyea)/ as we pull up to the station now my mind is at rest/ oblivious to what was waiting for me couldn’t have guessed/ it’s the police with guns and ammo and the bulletproof vests coming strapped for yours truly cuz they think I’m a threat (what?) CHORUS It’s hard to be man when you’ve got a dream man that you wanna see man it ain’t guaranteed man (nah)/ So when I speak man I ain’t trying to preach man but I wanna reach man so I gotta teach man (uh huh)/ I never sleep man when it’s time to reap man so I hit the street man cuz I gotta eat man (yeah)/ Ain’t trying to cheat man I’m just trying to be damn guess united we fall but divided we stand And I’m coming off right here I’m living my life here/ stepped out of the door and I stepped into a nightmare/ scene was so surreal they raised their weapons I’m like ‘where is who they’re aiming at?’ but I look up and it’s quite clear/ had to be a dream I was on my way home/ now I’m lying on the scene with pistols pointed at my dome/ only takes for me to panic and a flash from the chrome/ to lay an innocent to rest and there’s no coming back to roam/ a flood of all emotion family tears to make an ocean and another rapper dead, what a terrible promotion/ fear, confusion and commotion could have led to such reality thank God I didn’t panic, would be a different tragedy/ people shouldn’t have to die before we learn the lessons take a moment to remember Jean Charles De Menezes/ … / take a moment to remember Jean Charles De Menezes. CHORUS Yo, listen. It’s more than a mistake, even more than a catastrophe/ total damn disgrace how such a man became a casualty to think I’d see the day in the UK such a fatality/ six shots into a man’s the definition of brutality/ what was the excuse all you can say is you followed policy?/ was somebody’s son can’t bring him back with an apology/ words and press release can’t ease the shock and disbelief that on his way to work his life was simply ended by police/ please, you’re supposed to be protecting the street/ not aiming guns and normal people as you walk on the beat/ not harassing every kid with baggy jeans and flattened peaks they wear those hoodies cuz it’s cold, not cuz they’re packing heat/ if you’re the target due to race you lose respect for police/ that’s why so many ‘round my age don’t really mess with police/ so when they heard of my arrest their thought was ‘f’ the police’/ that’s a problem in itself creating threats on the streets cuz… CHORUS Bad Man. Bad Man.


This EP is a 5 song collection of recent fan favourites including 'Chilll!' and 'Rock Star'. It also contains 'Divided We Stand', Zuby's vivid account of the now infamous 'train station incident' with the police.


released January 1, 2010

All songs written by Nzube Udezue
Recorded and mixed by Chris Fulton
Mastered by Ty Degroff at The Final Sound
Artwork by Saleem Amer


all rights reserved



Zuby UK

Zuby is an independent British rapper and creative entrepreneur, known for his authentic, positive lyricism and inspirational message.

He has sold over 25,000 albums independently, performed in 8 countries, and amassed over 800,000 social media followers.

Zuby was born in England, raised in Saudi Arabia, and is a graduate of Oxford University.
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