[Verse 1: Stana]
I'm just a guy that writes poetry
Rhymes his life vocally and openly
I ain't tryna ride the mic globally but hopefully
I could travel overseas, get a load of peeps to fucking notice me
All I've got is big guns, broken dreams
Bad combination on these ghostly streets
Mad complications so we oversqueeze
Sad conversations always over beef
Got on the heat, that's compulsory
Streets ain't heard the most of me, lyrically [?] B
Keep it clean and tidy compulsively, I've got OCD
And I move so mean and grimy, something like ODB
Back from the dead, minus the plaques on my head
Giving you rap expressed from the back of my chest where my heart is
Trapped by the stress, me being trapped in the pen
I'm knackered to death, I'm exhausted, sick and tired of bullshit
I'm tryna change my life and progress
Yes, I'm back like I never left
Up in the studio again with Ghetts
Rolling back the years
Conversating 'bout our brother Wallace, holding back the tears
Such a shame, such a fucking shame
I'd give it all to have him here, hear my fucking pain
Got me thinking back to [?], we were locked up, barely 18
Prolific young offenders with a vision of the same dream
Lee died, I went back to jail, Ghetts stayed free
Took his second chance, hit the mainstream
I'm just a guy that writes poetry
Rhymes his life vocally and openly
I ain't tryna ride the mic globally but hopefully
I could travel overseas, get a load of peeps to fucking notice me
All I've got is big guns, broken dreams
Bad combination on these ghostly streets
Mad complications so we oversqueeze
Sad conversations always over beef
Got on the heat, that's compulsory
Streets ain't heard the most of me, lyrically [?] B
Keep it clean and tidy compulsively, I've got OCD
And I move so mean and grimy, something like ODB
Back from the dead, minus the plaques on my head
Giving you rap expressed from the back of my chest where my heart is
Trapped by the stress, me being trapped in the pen
I'm knackered to death, I'm exhausted, sick and tired of bullshit
I'm tryna change my life and progress
Yes, I'm back like I never left
Up in the studio again with Ghetts
Rolling back the years
Conversating 'bout our brother Wallace, holding back the tears
Such a shame, such a fucking shame
I'd give it all to have him here, hear my fucking pain
Got me thinking back to [?], we were locked up, barely 18
Prolific young offenders with a vision of the same dream
Lee died, I went back to jail, Ghetts stayed free
Took his second chance, hit the mainstream
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!