Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Life's Fucked Up, artist - Devlin. Album song Art Of Rolling, in the genre R&B
Date of issue: 20.07.2008
Record label: ARTIST PROJECTS (AP)
Song language: English
Life's Fucked Up |
I’m from the dirty Dagenham blocks |
Where the children are taking or serving rocks |
And the main ambition is to be swerving the cops |
Cause they wanna serve drugs not herd in a box |
And a headshot will make a body turn on the spot |
Round here it’s more fucked than an old nonce perving off |
You see the old bill following your vehicle |
Behind you, can’t see in the rear-view |
You best start turning off |
Then buckle up and start burning off |
It’s 2008 killings every other day so welcome to the UK |
Where you can get moved to for two flakes |
That’s a regular occurrence |
Every other day theres a similar disturbance |
Blue and yellow placards advertise murders |
Committed by kids with knives and big burners |
But that’s the cards we’ve been dealt |
Can’t help but feel a little sorry for ourselves |
Kids are getting killed every day |
It’s not a game like the Commonwealth |
This is common knowledge and still they don’t wanna help |
Kids don’t care about life like Heath Ledger |
Cause they ain’t seen no better |
You could get stabbed for two tenners |
And jacked for your brand new New Era |
Around here there’s more crime than Stella in a landlords cellar |
We need to make a few changes |
Maybe Eastenders should be a little bit more like Shameless |
Cause thats how it really is |
Instead of some overpaid amateur actors |
Running round on the square like fucking idiots |
They know nothing about east end affiliates |
It’s war round here, forget peace, it’s war round here |
You’ll get shot or bora’d round 'ere |
Yeah, life’s fucked up, sometimes I had enough |
They’ll try fuck you up, like an R1 bike that’s collided |
With trucks and the drivers divided and cut (x2) |
I’m from one of the poorest places in Britain |
Where people get robbed and possessions go missing |
Way before I ever hit the air waves spitting |
I was chilling in the dirty old stairway with piss in |
Kids sitting on the street corner dealing |
If he’s got money they’ll be willing to jib him |
I can’t wait to get away from this shit and say good riddance |
Cause there ain’t nothing great about Great Britain |
And if there is then it’s hidden |
I ain’t never seen it |
I just can’t believe it |
Pinch me I’m dreaming |
And now I’m coming out the pub fucking steaming |
And seeing two fat slags fighting and screaming |
I’m lighting my spliff with my green in |
Just another Friday evening |
Blood alcohol levels increasing |
And I’ve smoked too much weed |
If you need me then I’m breathing |
And leave your boys greening |
I’ve gotta get back on it |
See a deck with my track on it |
My flows like crack on it |
They keep coming back for it |
Waving their money for my CD’s |
I’ll tell em get fucked |
If they’re coming for some freebies |
Cause I ain’t got nothing to give |
I’m just fucked when I spit |
Tell’em suck on a dick |
Behind Beckton and bargain |
You’ll get hotted with the tip of the sniff |
Even if you’re minding your own business |
Or bunning a spliff, I’m down on my music |
I know a few man around town that get down |
With the gun and the clips |
And start letting off bullets |
If you’re running your lips |
As long as I spit |
I’ll continue to punish these pricks |
Yeah I’m from the slums where the scumbags live |
You could be approached by a scumbag |
And he could be two foot tall |
But with a three foot chiff |
Yeah it’s just the life that we live |
Nines and clips, kids putting knifes in ribs |
I’ll let the road man vibe to this |
Because they know how vital it is |
Just to make the fucking ends meet |
And fuck being friendly |
I’m driving around in an old school stolen Fiesta |
Because I ain’t got no money for my Bentley |
But that’s only temporary |
That way I spit bars is elementary |