1. |
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I handle bars like push bike handlebars
Riding by the brambles under stars
Tabletop candles in the dark
Sparklers in the park
Joyriders in the cars
It's the fabric of the past,
the pens like a needle
We used to find syringes in the churchyard where the steeple
Pointed to getting high as the heavens
Play on the estate just be back by seven
My childhood smelled of burnt toast
Chlorine in swimming pools
Where we first learned strokes
I still can't do butterfly
But I'm a caterpillar rapper killer when I wanna rhyme
Cocooned in my studio room
Till I'm entombed
Juliet you ain't my sun or my moon
That'd be music
I revolve around the verse
With a species of MCs evolved around the earth
We held sessions on a Friday
Rhyme into a wardrobe
Swore loads, played on radio would sound like morse code
Save our souls, save our souls
Hopeless kids trying to pan for gold
In your left and right earlobe
Hi fi and stereo
I write material alive with my ghosts
Echoes of the old days
Embers of the coal blaze
In the dying light of a fire
Where we sat round on Sundays
Gran listened to choirs
Songs of praise, songs of praise
Me and grandad trying to
Watch match of the day
I miss those fights
I lay awoke and wrote this
I miss those nights
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2. |
Convertible
03:04
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Intro...
my dad bought a car, I was impressed cos it was roofless
he was doing well with business, guess cos he was ruthless
I would sit there in the back and watch his hands against the wheel
till he got out of control, and crashed and now I feel
like every journey taken was a road into a place
he didn't want to ever reach but there was no escape
see the truth in your wing mirrors, chasing you down
no reversing, only cursing, music facing you now
I was sitting in our flat, he was driving from our home
I heard that front door close and so I sprinted to the road
saw the number plate with lettering like BRB,
we hardly, ever forget what our weak hearts keep
memories of riding shot gun, I was my pop's son
he was meant to fight my wars, even if we lost some
instead we fought each other till we had to make the cops come
guess that's why he told me, this what I want son
and I just wanna go, far from my town
with my convertible, all the windows down (x2)
if they drive into the night sky like back to the future
all these boomerang dads, they come back in the future
catch em on a good day, don't talk about the breakdown
talk about the day, that he would pull up to the playground
I would hop into the front seat, turn the radio on
never thought that one day that i'd be on radio one
though the cars on the scrapyard, me and dad trying to fix
I just hope that this time he's got the drive for it.
and I just wanna go, far from my town
with my convertible, all the windows down (x2)
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3. |
The Old School Song
03:27
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said you want an old school song
so i'm giving you an old school song
where's everybody from my old school gone
now i've learnt that its been too long
My first school was Gilmorton outskirts of Leicester,
thirty minute bus ride to get there,
Reception, dad would drop me off and I would get scared
immensely,
everything was too large, from the rooms,
to the year 6's playing 40/40 in the school yard -
this was the deep end, they use to take us swimming
on a Wednesday, and I thought that it was the end,
first time I was underwater bordered by my three friends,
but I forget their names
said you want an old school song
so i'm giving you an old school song
where's everybody from my old school gone
now i've learnt that its been too long
My next school was Grouville, I moved there in Year 3
met Rory in the playground, he immediately steered me
to the computers, I declined, not knowing one day in the future,
we'd connect just like a router,
I played football for the A-team, wasn't a great shooter,
became a keeper, now i'm saving memories,
I share em over FIFA, with Saralis, who I met in Maths class
always copying my work, and told me not to tell the teacher
one of these old days will come around and reach you,
and grab you the sleeve, drag you to the times
that we ran around the beach,
nothing but our dreams and a westerly island breeze
by the time to leave, we sat on benches like thrones
looking at the hall like it was something that we owned
man, that little place was my kingdom,
my school mates I miss em, somewhere in the distance
said you want an old school song
so i'm giving you an old school song
where's everybody from my old school gone
now i've learnt that its been too long
high school, guess who won the prizes for English
now they've asked me back to tell the kids how I did this
I'll stand there and give to them the one golden rule
no matter where you go, don't forget the old school
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4. |
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look up the category for me find me under rated
my glory under stated, my storybook was vacant
wrote it down and broke new ground like I was under paving
I'm always under raining, my bosses under pay me
mum's calling up and checking if her son's behaving
says I hope you don't believe that you're becoming famous
after all a couple pages, do not a man maketh
I bare all in raps like I stand naked,
this is mic magic, early life was quite tragic
your like why he's still rapping about the dad shit?
freeze, I know that I repeat like a bill murray scene
chill Muzzy please, I still worry dreams see I'm chasing them
since I was born, straight Jason them
I'd kill to know to exactly who I'm meant to be
play so many roles that i'm uncertain of my destiny
The smoking mic prototype and everybody testing me
Where do you go when you have got where you want
What do you want, when you have got what you need?
Wanting some more is that a cause for applause,
or do we pause and be appalled at the greed?
look up the category for me under rated
nah that's an understatement, been writing hooks for ages
they're like right hooks to faces, aiming for hits
like I was AJ with a glove and raised fist, round one
its hard to be hard when i'm as bubbly as calgon
the one that many up and comers went and got their style from,
I vow to keep the rhyme strong
I vow to beat my demons,
but every time I fight with them, i'm finding that i'm bleeding
arriving then i'm leaving, so its I true rarely stick around
I was probably lying when I told you I was out of town
countless people counted on me, count me out I let them down
the more we shine, our judgement clouds
lights out on nights out, we're tripping and we're falling
drunk texting, next thing be careful who you're calling
when the morning comes down and the dawns coming up
you still wanting more and more will never be enough
Where do you when you have got where you want
What do you want, when you have got what you need?
Wanting some more is that a cause for applause,
or do we pause and be appalled at the greed?
Goodie two shoes
With his two left feet
Trying to dance with the devil on a moonlit street,
I'll be damned if you settle with a view like me
Take a chance with a pebble on a moonlit beach,
Stone me down, then hold me down
Don't bring me back I'm supposed to drown,
Wake up from that, I'm on the over ground,
and it's slowing down, and i'm scoping out
drinking in the view full of choking doubt
Now where do you when you have got where you want
What do you want, when you have got what you need?
Outro
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5. |
Beano
00:44
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I was a rapping bambino
childish as gambino, but i'm smarter than tuxedo's
saw De niro in casino and I thought there would be no
point in chasing money and the world like Al Pacino
but I went from finding Nemo, to scarface and tarentino
I need slow it down like I was bobby Valentino
take it back unto the day, that my hobby was reading Beano
playing basketball in parks and missing even every free throw
loved ones took off like heathrow
and if it didn't dent my heart, then it probably did my ego
we would drive a dented car out to the bay, but not Montego
just a little island, chilling on the east coast
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6. |
April Fools
02:26
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7. |
March 27th
03:04
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Fifteen years old, listen to tribe called quest,
rhyming at the parties make the vibe more fresh
take a microphone and hide your stress
they told me have a dream and it will guide your steps
I got two left feet, dance with me while i'm tripping
I never see my girlfriend on the weekend, and I miss her
vodka in the mixer, treating bars like an elixir
to any kind of pain i've ever felt up in my system,
aint no words of wisdom, I can give ya
only pictures like your insta, this is me without a filter
Hope you like it, I am so divided, this after party
coincided with the comedowns and everybody's numb now
trying to find love by sundown
in run down houses, the cycle never making sense
I'm trying to pay my rent and make amends with vacant friends
we use to drive a saxo, but dream of a mercedes benz,
now time drives apart, and that's the way it ends
I'm reckless in the way I spend, Friday 8pm I hit the ATM
see you on the Monday - free you from the mundane
I can't - we're all caught up in the same march
I wrote this on the twenty seventh,
couple days after Fife entered heaven,
ciphering with legends -
I'm deciphering the message that he left us
following the path like Hansel after bread crust
aint no fairy tale here only dead trust
mandy and a headrush - I need to rest up
I'm kinda stressed out, waiting to be next up
Stay strategising like regulars at chess club
Fifteen years old, listen to tribe called quest,
rhyming at the parties make the vibe more fresh
take a microphone and hide your stress
they told me have a dream and it will guide your steps
(x2)
Our generation smoke weed watching 4od
I rather hit the record store, digging for old beats
I was born to be a story teller,
getting better with time, like the wine you store in cellars
I rhyme so purely zealous since the days of Rory's terrace
by the sea, him, Jacob and me
been about four years since we were all three
and every thing has changed now since we were all teens
we're little less friendly cos the world's more mean
we got girls that before were a dream, became the normal routine
Do you miss it though, what I do miss is sitting in the kitchen
with you both, listen close
Fifteen years old, listen to tribe called quest,
rhyming at the parties make the vibe more fresh
take a microphone and hide your stress
they told me have a dream and it will guide your steps
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8. |
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Passing trains patterning my window pane
Below clouds navigating through the shipping lanes
Of the sky, like an ocean, while the whipping rain
Dripping over Monday, water on the city brain
I sit and think of how to spin a phrase
Though it’s more hit and miss than a year four cricket game
Swinging for a little fame and getting bowled over,
Dreamt I won the Lotto, and then I rolled over,
Woke up, my girlfriend showing cold shoulders
Cos I ain’t paid the heating bill, and I’m a no hoper
Maybe darling, I listen to the baby starlings,
singing from the rooftops as yet another day is starting
Yeah I could tell what i'm looking to do
Yeah I could tell where I'm looking to go
The beat kicks like Messi through the back four
but no chance for Sky Sports, its back into the track for
clean vocals, then re-record some ad-libs,
couldn't breathe the first take, you see I got some bad ribs
mad kids broke em in a fight, every word hurts that I spoke into the mic,
But i've only got a short time, i'm hoping its alright,
Now its seven o' five, so it's clothes on, and out in the light
Yeah I could tell what i'm looking to do
and everything I do, i'm lucky I do
South Bermondsey, where the sirens are emergencies,
and the estates keep on rehearsing for a murder scene
some burly teens punched up my neighbour,
had his nosebleed decorating the front of his morning paper,
while the vapour of the weed smoke drifts like green ghosts
I walk through it and the elevator seems broke
I take the stairs again, cold getting my hairs on end
I put my hands together like i'm miming for the prayers of the men,
that's lack of gloves, I leave the building, with a rap I love
Playing on my phone, and I'm running till I catch the bus,
lungs telling me remember you got asthma Muz,
out of breath, sweating, then its on the way to Hackney bruv.
The kids there know me, and also Mr Antrobus,
having sat in class with us, and studying the classics cos
what's education without Lauryn Hill?
I'm a white boy rap teacher, pretty odd but still
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9. |
Is This a Man's World?
03:14
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Living in a bungalow with mum and my sister
meant that I was young when becoming a mister
man of the house, the other wasn't in picture
did a runner like he's trying to make the cut as a sprinter,
winter, I ran 100m was the winner,
look around and saw nobody saw me at the finish -
summer, rapping at my first show I was proud
look around and saw my friend's mum's there up in the crowd
now, what can I be telling James Brown?
how can it be our world if we straight break out?
wow, here we go another break down?
now we might change the wheel, but we never stay round?
it's easy to erase a child
but we could make it easier to raise a child,
if we stick around,
with family ties, homework and shoelaces
instead of birthday phone calls and suitcases
pack it all in a rap, what can I say to you till you understand?
pack it all in a rap, what does it take for you to call me a man?
Living in a bungalow, with Julia and Hannah
occasionally, went to go and stay over at nana's
over fifty years, her and my grandad had been married
that's something that our current generation couldn't carry
summer, I saw the waterworks like a plumber
from girls that I was getting with to never text their number
winter, realising that I should be ashamed
can't be mad at dad, if that's the way that I behaved
pack it all in a rap, what can I say to you till you understand?
pack it all in a rap, what does it take for you to call me a man?
Living here in London, I am now twenty four
learned a lot of lessons and I'm sure there's plenty more
I run into my dad and now occasionally we talk
but if honesty was wealth, then I would say we're very poor
Fall, around October, I gave you a call
talked about the footie and the Leicester City score
Spring, I have grown into a man and I am tall
To be a man, to be a man, I must forgive you after all
pack it all in a rap, what can I say to you till you understand?
pack it all in a rap, what does it take for you to call me a man?
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10. |
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young men want to be brave men,
I never knew what brave meant
came alive in the night time, couldn't work out what my days meant
every day spent was a counterfeit coin,
not amounting to much,
every day spent was a counterfeit coin,
no value to touch
plus its easy to go astray and London's full of drugs
if cocaine is Class A, how can we classify love
I'm hooked right on it, like a catchy chorus
only trying to catch the purest, standing by the road
like a taxi tourist, trying to get that map towards it
damn its moorish, but what's in the mix?
You can never be sure, my girlfriend has expensive taste
compared her to i'm poor, but that don't matter
if we scatter in the night, we're nothing but matter am I right?
Atomised stars, adamant parts of damaging heart
beating like a hammer when it strikes, judgement day
and i'm holding court, judgement day, will you judge me fair?
If I hold my thoughts outside my head, then I bet you all
would run in fear
Clear, like CPR
I know that the music is deep in parts,
get holding your breath, I flow with the best,
know that I'll rest never until I am over my stress
sober depressed, or high as boeing
I'm hoping to jet over the globe will you owe me respect?
i'm dope as it gets, though i'm broke as it gets
what I wrote to cassettes won't change the world
but it might just change your mind,
what do you think bout Hip Hop?
What do you think about mine?
I rhymed on bus seats, and park benches
streets corners and the school entrance
lunch tables and house parties,
started a career on my couch partly,
youth clubs, empty bars,
cinema lobbies, in the back of cars
now it's abbey road, and studio's
opera houses, packed out shows
was mic checks, now it's nine cheques
all in the post while the rhyme gets
heavy as the world in the palm of a hand
how can you weigh this heart in a man?
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11. |
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Hand me the mic,
I'm left angry, while the rising politicians all stand to the right
well, that escalated quickly
they tell me to forget the taste of victory and i'm sickly
pick me, i'm a pygmy in my city simply trying to make the big league
indeed, I speak in deeds, check the last will and testament,
in fact you could ask for Will for testaments,
ain't nobody messing with my art, these are the freshest prints
it's not the soundtrack to freshers drinks,
packing too many degrees, can I turn down the heat?
back in, the kitchen like its my turn to eat
and I am done snacking,
hand me the mic I used to rap inside the lunch hall
dinner ladies use to love it, all the kids were unsure
the same kids who try to spud me at festival
say they love my metaphors, i'm like have we met before?
I don't forget you all, the elephants in residence
I mean the room, but soon I really need to mention it
the fact that we're jealous of developments
and many of the fellas want my feathers in propeller tips
clip my wings until i'm falling out of relevance
i'm telling these hecklers your soul won't fit in ,
like every other slipper Cinderella tried to get in
strip it down to acapella I don't need a rhythm
gifted I don't have to tell ya, tell ya it's a given
even if I was an apple seller, I would make a killing
for lyrically I bear fruit whenever i'm spitting
looking at the world like its ripe for the picking
hand me the mic, take a second take a breath
we all need a break, I got mine when my tape impressed
rob da bank from the world famous radio
my mates called me like I heard you, aint it crazy bro
only feels like days ago sitting in a label lobby
nearly got a deal but then again the major dropped me
oh well, at least they put me in the hotel
gave me some expensive coffee told me I could flow well
it's a hard knock life when there are no bells
saying that's the fights finished, we're hardly prize winners
I just write lyrics that you like em is coincidental
hand me the mic and watch what I can do with instrumentals
and it's mental how i'm going viral
one freestyle and i'm watching it spiral
Johnny hit me up on whatsapp and warned me bout my ego
I told my mates that I was arrogant, they were like we know
big fish in a small pond, the opposite of nemo
flip the letters over and I read it as an omen
still dreaming of the ocean,
still dreaming that I could be beside it with my old friends,
we tried to reunite in Liverpool just the other week
except they were so fucked up that we couldn't speak
we all deal with life in our various ways,
but how do you celebrate by staring to space?
hand me the mic, rhyme is of the essence
I get scientific with it though I used to skive the lessons
i'm sorry sir, but I'm more about the bars than cells,
and I know a lot of teens spitting bars in cells,
my conviction is comparable, yet unparalleled
to any parable, I aint here to be Samaritan
we all got troubles, I aint big enough to carry them
until i've got it made with my very own marian
I'm aiming for the straight and narrow,
on point like the straightest arrow,
its for kids who never went to Harrow
mum's a nurse, father was a gardener
my sister is a physic, and I'm a starving artist huh?
Now who's got my back
told my chiropractor it was only her in fact
I'm fine with that
yeah i'm fine with that
hand me the mic and that's your final act.
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