With just a few singles under her belt, rapper Ma-Beyn has become one of the Egyptian hip-hop’s most promising talents. Tracks like 2022’s “Masa2altesh”, an ominous lo-fi anti-sexism anthem produced by Lil Abad—a fellow member of Cairo collective and independent record label Ka2en—have launched her as a powerful voice in a male-dominated scene. “I have to be very careful with my lyrics and the way I carry myself so as not to be judged by society. It’s creatively limiting,” says the artist. She numbers some of the challenges facing Arab women rappers today, from “creepy men” on social media to people expressing genuine surprise at the fact that she writes her own songs. Although wary of such demoralising hindrances, Ma-Beyn has no intention of shrinking her growing creative presence. The time she spent in the UK provided inspiration for bracing, “garage-esque” explorations alongside her beatmaker friend Karim Serry—with an Egyptian spin. Beyond the sonics, Ma-Beyn gives her work a philosophical dimension. “The metaphorical garage is where you hide your truest self, then you drive out into the online platforms with a polished, cut-and-paste look-alike,” she elaborates. This “constant pressure to be performing 24/7” informed her lyrics, while laying the foundation for the MC as an intriguingly reflective and resonant songwriter. Discover more about Ma-Beyn through her exclusive interview with Apple Music, and dig deeper into her uncompromising beats and bars. What is the inspiration or message behind your latest release? My friend Karim Serry, who usually DJs, had his first live gig to perform all original tracks, so this was our opportunity to finally collaborate. I lived in the UK for a bit and got into UK garage; I had just started revisiting the genre that week and was lucky enough to find that he had sketched a garage-esque beat. We discussed seeing this genre in a new light through our identity with a Cairo context. Cairo: a city that is coincidentally filled with stacked garages, cars in a rush and beautiful chaos which is consistent with the choppy percussion and high energy of the track. The metaphorical garage is where you hide your truest self, then you drive out into the online platforms with a polished, cut-and-paste look-alike. When I wrote the lyrics I was thinking about what artists are doing these days to get listens—this constant pressure to be performing 24/7. So I went into a stream of consciousness around this area and criticising and thinking about how we have all become performers and questioning what genuine human interaction is. The ideas discussed follow a male character—men created capitalism and social media. Part one talks about how gullible we have become as consumers and questions how we value what’s around us—i.e. is medicine poison? In part two, social-media likes are the human currency, the credit score. In part three, this character is acting on his childhood needs and his greed and he needs to grow up the eff up and stop being a spoiled brat. What are the challenges facing you and other women rappers in the Arab world? One: It’s not clear if people are asking me to perform or collaborate so they can score points and say they’re supporting “female artists” or if it’s actually because they like my music. Two: Being told “you’re an amazing artist” (with undertones of “for a female”). Three: I have to be very careful with my lyrics and the way I carry myself so as not to be judged by society. It’s creatively limiting. Four: People are surprised I write my own stuff. Five: Creepy men on social media. All the other challenges of being a woman in the Arab world affect rappers as well. Your latest featured track is mixed in Spatial Audio, a first in Egypt and the Arab World for a female rapper. Are you happy with the results? I was introduced to this technology by MNK Studios in Dubai with which i collaborated with in the final mix, it is the undeniable future of audio and I am so excited to share it with you. What is one word that best describes you? Bint (بنت).