| I’m fed up with life at the minute
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| So I get it off my chest when I’m writing my lyrics
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| Having to give my Nan hospital visits
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| I just pray to God she don’t turn to a spirit
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| Cause she’s the only Nan I’ve got left
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| And it hurts in my head when I contemplate her death
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| Knowing that one day soon she’ll be gone
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| That thought leaves me short of breath
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| Yeah that’s just one of the things
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| That makes me feel like I’m running in rings
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| No process made that’s a regular thing
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| But if I stop spitting that would be the death of a king
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| I’ve got to learn to focus my mind at the lowest of times
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| Then lo and behold the scene could be mine
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| Draw you a picture with words I describe with a caption beside
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| As life goes by, in the blink of an eye
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| I stay focused on writing my rhymes
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| These streets are inviting to crime
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| If I didn’t write music I’d probably go mad in my mind
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| Because it’s only music that keeps me sane
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| Plus bud and beers to forget the pain
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| Just reflecting my days go away
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| Let me tell another story, tell about a 23 year old man that don’t wanna' fail
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| Every move he makes his heart’s in it, from the start to the finish
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| Because losing ain’t never ever been an option
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| Constantly cooking up plans and concoctions
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| Raised in a place called Hoxton
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| By his Nan and granddad, gets to see his mum on a weekend
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| That was a treat then she was spoilt rotten and then its back to the east then
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| Years later man will be sick with a big pen
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| Living in a place where the youths strap big lens
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| Pure drama a star performer leave the boost so hot u could call it a sauna
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| 10 out of 10 I’m back at it again whatever the outcome its music to the end
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| Just another day in the life this music ain’t paying me right
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| Like a worker at MacDonald’s receiving minimum wage
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| I get pennies for the shit that I’ve write on the pages
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| Like I’m feeling so what in slaved due to power and urban decay
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| There ain’t no prospects in the UK today
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| So my mates keep playing up the 'caine
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| I don’t know what I stand in the struggling and strain
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| I’m trapped in the thunder and rain
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| But I don’t give a fuck for the fame so if I full pray to my sins then lust is
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| to blame
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| I’m in your ear like blood in your veins
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| And yeah I’m on the road like buskers and trains
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| I’m just like everyone I love to be paid
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| I’m messed up it must be the bud that I blaze
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| There ain’t nothing for us
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| The way I’m feeling there ain’t no word in the thesaurus
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| Born on the 7th of may I’m a Taurus
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| Can’t keep my job cause I can’t take orders
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| I feel like I’m outside of the borders
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| Looking inside of the rich and the borders then I take a look around my
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| headquarters
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| And I’m ripping my hair out soon my heads gonna' look like Gail Porter’s
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| They hit us with extortion and treat illegal immigrants much more important
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| than me and you
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| Cause I’ve lived there all my life and live got nothing to show for it
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| And you can’t get rich from work so spitting I’ve gotta' have a really good go
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| at it
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| I’ve put my boat in the stream and now I keep rowing it it’s my dream I won’t
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| let go of it |