[Verse]
I scheme but me words are slurring
Still sure I be landing all the punches you're enduring
Birds are stirring, and I'm still up on the grind
To fuck with time, I still say fuck it and rhyme
Shook is me mind, thing winds, been twisted
How many lyricists'd kill to be this kid
Youngfellas in the booth and
Youngfellas spitting truth and
Youngfellas in the youth and
Youngfellas sitting through
The shite that everyone else does
I dealt buzz, held hoods, the writing is what fucking helps us
Through the temptation of a life behind bars
Through the page inclined, is me life behind bars
A detailed tale, me life behind a quiff
Lighting up a spliff rather than lining lines of sniff
Other minds? of course few bikes, the joy, sliders
Hip-hop's the corsa and I the joyrider