(Verse 1)

I never stutter, lie or mutter
This my bread and butter
Beats straight gutter
Like the lungs on a paint huffer
Fuck the coppers, I never wanna get clocked
Like fake dollars
Need a fishing hat, Shades and acres of forest
So I can get away with burying their office
Maybe I might jack a uniform, go out as Sergeant Chronic
And go around
Give the drugs back they've stolen from us
Roll to the Queens, knick her jewels and start playing conkers
I rap for opposite of sheeple man
I pay you homage
Fuck the time and the clock and what's on it
My hands move faster
As I spit bars, they're metal objects
The way your cranium gets shattered when I spray it onwards
Unlike the girls with their fake tans spraying orange
My bars resonate with nature cause I made them from it
Sound waves painting pictures out of sacred knowledge
I stay awake when I dream
You know my state is conscious
Unlike the guy laying in the alley in his vomit
I'm ballied up in my bedroom hanging like my bollocks
I shake the ground
Like the shock waves
Reverberating octaves
Top of the stage
Is where my gob's placed
(Chorus x2)

This is for the people who are growing Mary Jane
This for the people who are clinically insane
This is for the people living life how they want to
Never cared to aid the system, run against the grain

(Verse 2)

Yo I'm running down the third rail again when the train's coming
Done this before, nuff onlookers said nothing
Lucky I'm alive now sonny, I was mad buzzing
High up in the sky, like the buzzard when it's puffing
See I cold crush percussion
Getting stuck in like its curry mutton
No discussion son
You know it's pucker when I bust the oven
Favourite way around London's
Flash a bus and pay them nothing
Tripping off my face
Like I just ate eight magic mushrooms
Playing dot to dot with microscopic microdots
You might have lost your mind
A couple nights ago
If you find it bruv
I couldn't really care less
Maybe that's what kaya does
I put it on your screen like I transcribed and typed it up
Hands tied I still dig the diamonds right out the rough
Dripping blood like
My eyes concussed from the finest bud
Turn the sound gold
Like each line got the Midas touch
Sites I set are high And mountainous
The piff flies me up
Focused I align the times
I've tried in the past but fucked up
It's a minor bruv
Smiling through it like the guilty human
In a line up
Who am I?
Not one to judge
I am you
Just in a different place
And time, trust
(Chorus x2)

This is for the people who are growing Mary Jane
This for the people who are clinically insane
This is for the people living life how they want to
Never cared to aid the system, run against the grain