Why did dissident rapper Toomaj Salehi have to go to court once again on February 18, 2025, now on charges for song lyrics?

Toomaj wrote Tifus (Typhus) in 2022. In 2024, while he was in prison with almost no outside contact, supporters released it in video form with clips from his other music videos without his involvement, as a way to keep his music in front of fans. The local prison and court authorities seized on the song as a pretext to pile on four new heavy charges (detailed in a 2024 IEC update) and keep him in prison after the Supreme Court had overturned the bogus charge of Corruption on Earth and death sentence.

The result of the hearing is not yet clear. Before the court appearance, Toomaj posted:

This court can be an excuse for me to say again: No one should be arrested, threatened, and subjected to psychological pressure for their beliefs and the expression of their beliefs. The existence of political prisoners in any country is a sign of the weakness of that country's government.

Below is an English translation of the first verse by IEC volunteers.

Everyone knows you've got a big mouth,
Now you’ve bitten off more than you can chew,
The only answer you’ll get to Friday prayers,
Is the imam coming to sew your lips closed.    

You’ve gotten comfy sleeping with the enemy.
But what ¬we serve up is not a fake, boy,  
We dis chasing cheddar and Al Mahdi’s  army.  

When you kiss the ground and pray,
You fill up gasoline
For the tanks of the merchants of pain
You be the dealer for their blood-soaked gain.

Which way the wind blows, which way money lies,
That is the way that your flag flies.
Your sell-out crew does nothing more than
Lick the boots of whosoever holds power.  

The relationship will never work out, whether
Reconciliation or engagement celebration
A pack of jackals under shepherd’s orders,
A blind gang looking for a road map.  

You served just 9 months, and they released you.
That alone shows that you did a deal.
Became a tool who continues to be used
Your hands may be free but there’re shackles on your feet

You're a slave to the system, a prostitute propagandist,
Al-Haqq sell-out, as a matter of a fact,
You are nothing more than a rapper for the system...    

They call me the “enemy of the system”,
I'm a rebel rapper, a warrior, and my base is people
I’ve got two tanks, don’t give a fuck about your might.

You have no clue what’s in the cities’ depths,
Where cops dare not enter and arrest
Where they are the ones on the run.
Nights I beat your godfathers  and rob them of their sleep.  

It’s not a game, it’s a war.  Can't let your guard down,
Can't sleep a wink or close your eyes at night.
I hit them and curse them, I am your godfather's' nightmare.  

You, though, are pitiful, you are shameful,
Your place is with the artless class, singing useless words
Rapping for Karbala [Shi'ite holy city in Iraq]  must make your mouth dry...

Chorus:

We got plan, and a hell of a team, We piss on you and your gang.
This place is nothing but a slaughterhouse, where Rap is sung under gun,
It’s got a hundred years of history, and many hundreds of fallen feet.