Young bull at the top of the block wid the white front door in the corner subtle
Kool But he always in trouble
Why you think his bredrins called him knuckles
10 years old in beef
Dad think Streets taking over me
mumsy praying for me but there ain’t enough beads on the rosary
Raised by the wolves from young n still in the jungle like mowgli
always up front when the olders speak
So was never as dumb as Ones sposed to
2’sin a spliff by the lift
It be what it be n it is what it is
They said if I tried it they whiling n kickin my shit
Cos it Isn’t for kids
4th floors where my ting woulda lived
If her fam never moved out to Harrow
Her Dad was a pastor n Marge was parrow I’d take her daughter off the calm n narrow
Yout with the peppercorns Yh
I know
It’s seems kinda deep but they thoughts was shallow
Spent my whole life on the market as the target that they point they arrows
Control it then pass it to paolo
Young kick abouts on Albert road
Coach said come down to trials cos I coulda scouted but I was at home
Or I was outside wid homies
If only I could of advised me no
But Even if I was down n out
I’d still come back to alpha house
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