Politically charged rappers risk reprisal from the Egyptian state. Some have already been intimidated while others continue to push the boundaries of censorship with their music, reports Mat Nashed from Alexandria.
"Egypt Rap School for Biggenas" is plastered across the wall of a tiny recording studio in Alexandria, Egypt. Above it, hang three portraits: Notorious BIG, Bob Marley and Tupac Shakur. Like millions of fans, Temraz - his stage name - grew up listening to these icons.
Now, the 29-year-old Arabic rapper is part of Revolution Records, an underground label that he helped establish in Alexandria 11 years ago.
"We decided to name the label Revolution Records because we thought rap was still a very weird [genre] to Egyptian ears," Temraz said, before rolling a cigarette. "We also named it 'revolution' because rap music is about rebelling. To us, [rap] is about rebelling against everything."
Revolution Records started out with 14 members, but now there are only four. The group is one of many hip-hop movements in Egypt. Cairo, the capital, has a bustling scene. But Alexandria is considered the pioneer of rap music in the country.
Before the Arab Spring, rappers from Alexandria released tracks that mocked social norms and crony political elites. The lack of mainstream attention even enabled some artists to push the boundaries of censorship. And while their music was gaining traction, it wasn't popular enough to invite a crackdown from the state.
But in today's Egypt, where thousands of youth are in jail for criticizing the regime, rapping about politics is riskier than ever.
Rapping to ridicule
Shakur (photo, above) is the stage name of a 31-year-old artist who is part of a group called DaCliQue 203. He said that most rappers have been reluctant to ridicule Egypt's President Abdel Fattah el-Sissi. His group, however, is one of few exceptions.
In February 2014, DaCliQue 203 released "Ana Malak," which means "I'm the King." The track was a remix of a song that Shakur originally recorded in 2005. The new version was made to mock el-Sissi who was by then fixed in power.
"The lyrics go like this," said Shakur, as he proceeded to recite his impersonation of el-Sissi. "I'm not on the right and I'm not on the left. I'm not an Islamist nor an anarchist. I just follow the money so show me the money."
The song was daring. And yet, Shakur wouldn't record another track for three more years. He said he couldn't bring himself to make another one. Not after his younger brother, a former supporter of the outlawed Muslim Brotherhood, passed away suddenly in his home before "Ana Malak" was released.
"We always fought about my love for hip-hop," said Shakur. "[My brother] thought I was wasting my time. He thought I should be writing articles about politics instead. But at the same time, he remained curious. He always wanted to know about the lyrics I was writing."
Other rappers became increasingly political while Shakur took a break from hip-hop. In April 2016, Revolution Records released "Masahsh Keda" - "That's Not Right" - on YouTube. The group appropriated the phrase from el-Sissi, who often says it condescendingly when addressing his citizens. The group made a music video for the song and included English subtitles.
"We sampled el-Sissi's voice and incorporated it in our music," Temraz told DW. "The track did well when we first uploaded it. I think it received more than 200,000 likes."
Despite the success, Temraz feared that the song might bring reprisal. After the track was released, members of Revolution Records were invited to Denmark to perform in a concert. Temraz was anxious when he arrived at the Cairo airport. He thought he would be arrested. Lucky for him, nothing happened.
Weeks later, the group was informed that "Masahsh Keda" had crossed a line. Their friend, who worked in the presidential palace, warned them that the government wouldn't tolerate another track like that again.
"We had to stop," Temraz said. "I gave up trying to change this country for the better."
Moving away, coming back
Not everyone lost hope. Some rappers tried to broach sensitive topics without explicitly blaming the state. Y-Crew, which is one of Egypt's first hip-hop groups, released a track titled "Blinded" nine months ago. The song was about the abuse and violence that street children face in Egypt.
"Mainstream music in Egypt is just about love. It doesn't talk about real problems," said Omar Bofolot, one of the original members of Y-Crew. "We want to talk about real stuff. But we don't want to preach to people about what they should do."
The group has recently moved to Dubai to work on their latest album. They told DW that they are also losing hope that their music can make a positive impact in Egypt.
"We been rapping about social and political issues since we started," said Shahin, the second member of Y-Crew. "Nothing is changing [in Egypt], and we're getting sick of it. Our next album is just going to promote peace, love and unity."
Shakur, however, won't stop rapping about the issues that matter to him. In January, he released his comeback track. And now, he's writing lyrics about the refugee crisis in Egypt and Europe.
Thousands of refugees and Egyptians have died trying to cross the Mediterranean from Alexandria. Shakur knows their stories firsthand. He's been a migration advocate for years and has even collaborated with some refugee rappers in Egypt.
The oppressive political climate doesn't scare him. Even if Egyptian rap becomes more commercial, he vows to never censor himself.
"I have to keep it real," he told DW. "The price might be bigger. But Egyptians are paying a heavy price anyways."