And this is why I love the month may
The untamed will chase cash to make stacks
Monday to sunday the same track
And somehow, someway
Officers find reasons to line us up
Like blind mindless ducks hooked in iron cuffs

Zoning off to illmatic like it's real graphic
They carry gutting knives, dusty pipes and steel ratchets
And it's the perfect time for payback
To clean him out like ajax
Raise the 12-gauge and made him lay flat

All colours of brothers killing brothers
Worried mothers stressing to death
Left to raise grown men with no assistance
All I know is resistance
Yet most of us will go the distance
Racking up a list of known convictions

This is a year in the life of oscar the slouch
The grumpy grouch keeping up nightwatch
Bare punk in the sole of my air dunks
Split a meal for one into two and share blunts
Getting hotboxed in
Cotching in the kitchen with the big long bong
Until the filth dropped in
Cut the spliff and keep the cherry lit
No canoeing or any rips
Pebs and henrys for big belly chicks
Loads of different kitties roped into the smoke then
With grotesque girlfriends still toking after the roach ends
Hopeless teen, dagger poking out my coat sleeve
Destined to be the casualty of my own greed

Stolen goods and a four-four stored in a sock drawer
Moody crooks and villains that cotch on the top floor of towerblocks
One-track mind-mentals
Listening to goodfellas and cellar dwellers
Power bikes and rentals
They never tell us that it's hard to earn
Banging Gang Starr
Street smarts ain't that hard to learn
The three-quarter length shorts, the sun visors
The fake bouncers outside the clubs, the drunk drivers
The guy who got shivved with 72 ounces
The questionings, police cells, prisons and courthouses
Half of them are crooked and corrupted
Like the fully nasty yardies that smuggle garlic on their bullets

Pass the dutchy with the bumpy knuckles
D.I.T.C. remixes in this mean district seeing three sixes
So fuck a popularity contest
You'll wind up dead in them flats or catching a long stretch