[Verse 1: Giggs]
Let's take it back to the nice times
That's too far, let's take it back to the knife fights
Let's take it back to the flats
I was so young witnessing cats on a crack pipe
Let's take it back to the breadbin
Bare crumbs in the spot where the bread's been
Or take it back to my dead skin
Look at the scar from when I bled for my bredrin
Let's take it back to the nightmares
Or take it back to the shed tears
Back to the ends where, skengs flare
All love ends here
N***as hear your business and it spreads fear
Let's take it back to a rock sale
Let's take it back to the block's hell
Back to a rotten hell
Back to when my son had no daddy in his world

[Chorus: Giggs + Blade Brown]
Backed out the strap on him
Back to the trap again
Smashed out a pack again
Cash in my stack again
Backed out the strap on him
Back to the trap again
Smashed out a pack again
Cash in my stack again
[Verse 2: Blade Brown]
11 o'clock, and half of the night's gone
I picked up a fiver, nearly half of the white's gone
I stay dedicated to the grind
You can say that my food line's quite strong
It's suttin' like a pizza shop
What you want, cro, yay, buj, or a piece of rock?
I send my delivery boy
We've got them bars too, we deliver them toys
I reminisce and take it back to the zone
When we was on the buses moving prats for their phones
You wouldn't believe the levels we would take it to
Just to get our hands on a brand new 82
Let me take it back to the knife wars
A little further, let's take it back to the five draws
Taking you back to my roots
These rappers love to lie, let's go back to the truth

[Chorus: Giggs + Blade Brown]
Backed out the strap on him
Back to the trap again
Smashed out a pack again
Cash in my stack again
Backed out the strap on him
Back to the trap again
Smashed out a pack again
Cash in my stack again
[Verse 3: Giggs + Blade Brown]
Let's take it back to the sweet shop
Brixton riot, took it back to them weak cops
Let's take it back to them three shots
The little profit that my back pocket eats off
Let's take it back to the British nights
Back to the fist fights
I swear I had the sickest right
Let's take it back to the soccer days
Way back before the mandem were shotting yay
Let's take it back to the mopeds
Back to the strip selling smack to the dopeheads
Let's take it back to the cro Z's
Take it a little further, take it back to the old heads
Let's take it back to the workouts
Punk weren't working we got crack on the curb now
Straps on the firm now, the Mac's on its third round
Fuck around and get clapped when you turn 'round