Lyrics Streets Score - The Streets

Streets Score

Oi, oi, oi
Sometimes I look down, sometimes I look up, oi
Sometimes I look down, sometimes I look up
Oi, that’s it, oi, oi
I’m a fake, I don’t live the streets
But there’s only so many hours in a day
And I use 'em to make beats, oi
In the studio, immersed in, rehearsing my technique
I live loops, sleep snares and breathe beats
Then sit through, keep the best there and only leave to eat
Shut the door, pen and re-record the vocal just once more
And now you know why these walls are the only walls I ever saw
Call me The Quick Draw McGraw Show
But unlodge your cord, yeah, oi
Kind of like a street score, though not the genuine article
More facts packed in a soundtrack to the acting
In a film and I’m the lead
Believe me, in the tragedy scene, a tear ran down my cheeks
So cue the fairytale finale
Listen to the dialogue, but not too deep
Soak up the feeling, but don’t quote me, please
Incidentally, don’t worry about continuity
The person we hired to do that was relieved of their duties
Also, in the first scene, my jeans are green
But then they change mysteriously to cream
Again, bad continuity, but I still mean what I mean
I wear Nike a lot, my hoodie’s a tight Schott
But does my life sound as interesting as a fight in a chip shop?
I think not, the hype’s not to be believed
I ain’t the archetypal street geez
But I am right on being a beat junkie, oi
I gave up the fight for an easy life a long time ago
When the last bird dumped me
Buy me, get one studio free
I use words for effect to illustrate passion
The themes ring fact and specifics are usually fiction, oi, oi
I probably couldn’t tell you half of what
«Has It Come To This» means
I was simply setting a scene of concrete, not sky and green trees
I still hold the same hundred-feet-high dreams
But a lot of things scare me, though
I think I read somewhere recently that fear is a useless feeling
Because I can’t run to where I’m heading
Without running from where I was, it’s all because
Where I’m from is not the issue, this is my imagination
I don’t sing the blues or feel fever
Which, by definition, ain’t spoken truth either
It floats around places I’ve never even been to
So don’t lean toward the door at four
Just as the dance floor gets raw
Some of the things this tour makes out I’d done, been or did
Wasn’t me, I weren’t the one, I’d only seen it
I was always too zoned out on drum machine shit
To worry about the day-to-day out in the dosh pit, oi, oi
Flip the 12-inch, this is the original mix, called
«Maybe My Sarcastic Brick Twist Daunting Will Be My Downfall», oi
Suddenly I’m defined by my lyrical
So I apologise for being so self-obsessed on this tune as
Let’s get back to the story, soon as
The Streets, the score
Tell me what you think it is, 'cause I don’t know anymore