[Hook: Tehran Persian-accented male MC, steady and low over tombak, daf and the heavy kick] Thirty glasses on my tray and I never spill a drop Every word in this bazaar comes through me, and it stops Baleh, agha, sip your chai and say it to my face I carry every glass and every secret in this place [Verse 1: Tehran Persian-accented male MC, quick on the tar riff, low and steady Persian delivery] Five in the mornin' I am boilin' up the very first tray Through the carpet men, the copper men, my feet know every way Left at the spice row, right along the jewelers' hall Thirty years these men have talked in front of me, and said it all The gold man tells the silk man how he shaves a little gold The silk man tells the carpet man a thing he's never told Who's marryin' whose daughter, who is cheatin' on the scale Who is sellin' to the cousin of the man who blocked his sale They talk like I'm a lamp, khanum, like I'm a painted door I pour, I nod, I take the glass, and they tell me more [Hook: Persian MC, the daf slapping every line] Thirty glasses on my tray and I never spill a drop Every word in this bazaar comes through me, and it stops Baleh, agha, sip your chai and say it to my face I carry every glass and every secret in this place [Verse 2: Persian MC, faster, santur runs between the bars] Now the old head of the guild is steppin' down this spring Every elder gets a vote, and every vote is everything Haji Morteza from the gold row slides a coin beneath my tray "What did Bahman say about me, boy? I'll make it worth your day" Then Bahman from the carpets puts a ring into my hand "What did Morteza promise them? I need to understand" I take the coin, I take the ring, I thank them both the same And I say "Your chai is gettin' cold," and that is all they gain Then I walk the rows from dawn to dark with nothin' on my lips And a hundred men are watchin' how my tray don't even tip [Verse 3: Persian MC, rhyme recycle, every end rhyme of verse 1 coming back in order, harder on the tombak] Vote day, every elder sittin' waitin' on my tray Not one man would trust the other, not a single way So they sent for me, the tea boy, standin' in the guild hall 'Cause the only one who heard it all is the one who kept it all They didn't want the money man, they didn't want the gold They wanted someone who knew everything and never told So they put the votes down on my name like glasses on a scale Seventeen to none, agha, and none of it for sale Now the tea boy holds the keys to every single door And I still carry thirty glasses, baleh, and I hear more [Hook: Persian MC, the whole band in, steady and low] Thirty glasses on my tray and I never spill a drop Every word in this bazaar comes through me, and it stops Baleh, agha, sip your chai and say it to my face I carry every glass and every secret in this place [End]
