| And this is why I love the month may
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| The untamed will chase cash to make stacks
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| Monday to sunday the same track
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| And somehow, someway
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| Officers find reasons to line us up
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| Like blind mindless ducks hooked in iron cuffs
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| Zoning off to illmatic like it’s real graphic
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| They carry gutting knives, dusty pipes and steel ratchets
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| And it’s the perfect time for payback
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| To clean him out like ajax
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| Raise the 12-gauge and made him lay flat
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| All colours of brothers killing brothers
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| Worried mothers stressing to death
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| Left to raise grown men with no assistance
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| All I know is resistance
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| Yet most of us will go the distance
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| Racking up a list of known convictions
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| This is a year in the life of oscar the slouch
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| The grumpy grouch keeping up nightwatch
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| Bare punk in the sole of my air dunks
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| Split a meal for one into two and share blunts
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| Getting hotboxed in
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| Cotching in the kitchen with the big long bong
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| Until the filth dropped in
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| Cut the spliff and keep the cherry lit
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| No canoeing or any rips
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| Pebs and henrys for big belly chicks
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| Loads of different kitties roped into the smoke then
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| With grotesque girlfriends still toking after the roach ends
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| Hopeless teen, dagger poking out my coat sleeve
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| Destined to be the casualty of my own greed
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| Stolen goods and a four-four stored in a sock drawer
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| Moody crooks and villains that cotch on the top floor of towerblocks
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| One-track mind-mentals
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| Listening to goodfellas and cellar dwellers
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| Power bikes and rentals
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| They never tell us that it’s hard to earn
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| Banging Gang Starr
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| Street smarts ain’t that hard to learn
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| The three-quarter length shorts, the sun visors
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| The fake bouncers outside the clubs, the drunk drivers
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| The guy who got shivved with 72 ounces
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| The questionings, police cells, prisons and courthouses
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| Half of them are crooked and corrupted
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| Like the fully nasty yardies that smuggle garlic on their bullets
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| Pass the dutchy with the bumpy knuckles
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| D.I.T.C. |
| remixes in this mean district seeing three sixes
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| So fuck a popularity contest
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| You’ll wind up dead in them flats or catching a long stretch |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song May - Just Da Way It Iz, artist - Ramson Badbonez. Album song A Year in the Life of Oscar the Slouch, in the genre Дабстеп