[Intro] Lyricist Jinn, SB.TV Warm Up Sessions Hold tight, all my family, you know who you are Yo, Peoples Army, Minarmy, Black Triangle, UK Yo Tell em, yo [Beat 1] Yo, Im reaching out to you, Lord, I know you hear me I hope youre near me, I can feel the lack of love Im stuck behind these castle walls, Im trying to grab a dove And I can see the light but cant reach it, Ive had enough Slip on the wrong turf, and theyll grip hammers Its sticky living with the bandits and the thugs Howd you expect me to listen to these self snitch rappers Last time I sat in court, I didnt stand up for the judge, nah And Ive been runnin round the block wishing for transitions Missin my fam, listen, Im driven by ambition This is a damn mission, this gift isnt mangiven Still, Ive been up all week cutting grease till my hands stiffen Im back in this room and Im writing again I thought I quit, I guess I only speak my mind within pen Unfortunate kid, still I thank Allah at night in my bed And look at all these children talking how they lighting the sken Nah... You aint never let the ting blow And even if you did, I bet you never caught a body Sick of all these YouTube fucks, NNS syndrome Stay true to who you are, brotha, start talkin properly And what you know about six siblings and a mum to feed? And system cut the benefits, now Im the one for peas And now they wanna send my family back to Egypt Already feeling seasick, gotta get them peas quick Now would you pay attention if I had some more views? Bitches in the videos, or chilling in a Porsche coupe? The realest in the game, fuck a glistening chain Most of us grew in poverty, difficult to relate On top of that, the pops is doing life without remand I got to keep my calm Cant ride with that shit on Its hard to progress in the future with a damaged past And still, I try to count my blessings and I thank Allah See nuff of these yutes got no reason to be out on hustle And still they jump on tracks and try talkin bout struggle But they just struggle to go clubbin on the weekend And then they back in mommys comfort when the week ends Ha...its kinda funny, though Always complaining about getting snaked for the money, yo But they wont hesitate to do the same in that position Its just a sewage full of rats, rattin rats for provision When the times we were young, times were different Sippin liquor past the point of getting drunk Aint no food up in the kitchen, but my blood is full of drugs Kind of wishing on a miracle, tryna figure how to buss I remember listening to B.E.P., now wheres the love? I stand better chance to find it in a rhythm of a slug We were worshippin the lavish life, not willing to give it up Lifes a bitch, never kiss it, look at all the kids that sucked And I wonder, would they miss me when Im wrapped in a box? Would they dedicate a piff spliff at the back to the blocks Same place we kept the Smith hidden wrapped in a sock Would they all my recite my lyrics while they rap to the top? Tell em [BEAT 2] Make sure you check out my other stuff on YouTube Big up [?] for the opportunity, man Mm, yo, tell em, tell em Uh Yeah Okay You have a take on my life, yeah, save me living in drama They ask me why my lifes messed, I answer this to karma They never offer right help until you cause disaster My lifes hell, my brothers let the ice melt, the nines belt Welcome to the London city, gritty blocks where crimes dwell Snitches singing sly tales Half the brothers hate the hood The others trapped in tight cells You duckin clapped in right jaw Im stuck in rap till mommys glad my rhymes sell, Im running mad And I can see from distance all the plastic faces And ever since I got off meth, Ive witnessed drastic changes Bitter sick, this track in mazes Grippin sticks like masturbators Hitting spliffs intact with nature Written scripts attracting haters Flipping bricks and stacking paper Mission is to battle Mages Spittin sick, I rap [?] cages Livin sin for crappy wages But I aint giving in until I witness happy faces Nah, I aint giving in Nah, I aint giving in Flippin the rocks, sipping Croc from dawn to dawn, we out here Chill in the blocks, hitting the dots [?] torch without fear Dipping the cops, sit in the box, walk in and leave no comment Gratata, gratata, talk and youll be dishonoured I never glamorized the crime, this is the life we live Kid gets to hammering, surprises all that tried the ting And Lord, forgive me, cause I try, we all live by sin Please, Lord, forgive me, when my momma cries, I die within Phone at my connect, one hour left to get to country Cut up the pen, run up to ends, the cats are getting hungry Two for fifteen, if they lucky then its three for twenty Thats the deal, bag some Remy, then I chill, okay Back on them roads again, dicing up them hoes again Lighting up and smokin till we choking as I hold it in These rappers are so pretend They aint never blown a sken And Lord, forgive me I aint happy on this road to sin Back in the booth again, keeping it presidential Reaching is evident, while reaping the credentials Believin its heaven sent, Im a beast with the pen, Im mental Watch out, on the streets of the jealous friends who Lie and cheat for the peas, easily deceived Many nights I stayed up while they sleep on my dreams Thinking why the games fucked while Im breathing the trees They tried to disrespect, now they [?] speaking to me Its survival of the fittest in this war zone, I was a poor bloke, now look at me, all grown You can tell from my voice Ive been cold, like a sore throat Silent swagger with the dagger, we still saw throats I got my own stress to worry about, the only Jesus The rest, we crossing them out Im trying to change my ways, but theres blood on my hands And I cant change my ways till theres funds in the bank, nah I cant differentiate the angels from the demons My hearts disintegrated, aint got no more feelings Even when my lifes blessed, still I will not find rest The karma still awaits our sin to get the teasing Gratata
gratata, sken, pea, nah, sin