Haivaan:
Gaya 2018, na koi chaskay na lara yara
Gali walay rhymes bhai beatain awara
Deakh mic pe haivaan, hungi neendain haraam
Barz nahi hum machaye kohram
Le kar aye aik pehgham, qatal e aam
Ab hoga shuru yahan subho sham
Yeh mainstream walon ki hum gand nahi songtay
Yeh filmi sitaron k loray nahi chooptay
Hum chut’tay tere jaison k munh pe
Peeche palat deakh tera munh ghoome
Jhoomay mere sath mein publik
Paidaishi tu gandu jaisay koi manglik
Mang k likh beshaq tu ganay
Meri tarfo behn tu yuwale
Lalay, tujhe jaan k par gaye.
Daranti hai hath mein aur tere ghar wer gaye.

Polymath:
Wazan mera ziada, beat khaane ka mein aadi
Cut hai halal par mein seedha saadha 'raami
Baaghi, peeta jaam, khud ka saqi,
Likhta sher Yazdani, wairagi inquilaabi
Aaho old school jese STN
Old school itna yara and you can't comprehend
So grab the pen, get the qalam
Feel the talab in the maghaz
Tum ek talib yeh ek sabak
Get to work, roll the charas
Lagi hip-hop class aj boom-bap madrasay mein
Hogi saari baat sach, listen what the teacher say
No headphone, gaane wajay sirf speaker pe
2pac clones mere lun se
Nai karte yeh gangster chutiapa, desi tamasha
Rap game ka mein chief, tu pakar mera rocker
Motorhead jaanu, maare tujhko Bomber
Heavy metal style, karein tujhko conquer.

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Translations:

Haivaan:
2018 has went and no one is doing anything decent
They drop street bars but their beats wander aimless
But on the mic is Haivaan and your sleep will be fucked
We don't spit bars, we make people mourn
With our message of indiscriminate slaughter
It will thus begin every morning til evening
We don't sniff the assholes of mainstream people
Nor suck dicks of film stars
We instead fire straight in your face
You'll fall back as your head spins
As the public dances with me
You're just unlucky since birth
And you can ask others to write for you
Or even get your ass kicked at my place
We're after you with a bloodlust
The sickle in our hands and we've burst through your front door

Polymath:
I'm a little overweight, I eat a lot of beats
This cut's halal but I'm straight up haram
Rebel, drinking wine, my own bartender
Write holy rhymes, ascetic revolutionary
Yes, I'm old school like STN
So old school that you can't comprehend
So grab the pen, get the qalam (Urdu for pen)
Feel the urge in your brain
You're a student, this is a lesson
Get to work, roll the charas
It's a hip-hop class in a boom-bap madrasa (religious school)
Everything said will be true, listen what the teacher say
No headphones, songs blast only on speakers
2pac clones can fuck off
We don't do gangster bullshit or desi fuckery
Chief of the rap game, you can grab my rocker
Motorhead mate, Bomber will attack you
Heavy metal style, we'll conquer you