Dreaming today is rarely found, so the dreamer finds it hard,  you don't need the anatomy chart, if you're looking to find your heart,  if you look at this type of art, there are many that disbelieve you,  we're not provided the right of hindsight, or the privilege of a preview.  So you never know where you stand, or how the future will unveil  but like everything you can never win, if you're too afraid to fail,  I've bailed on many times where I should've stayed,  didn't take decisions that maybe, maybe I should have made. Shudder from your regrets or accept them and build another day,  this projects for the people who feel that there’s not another way,  to cut loose from the bonds that are trapping you,  let me introduce, imagination avenue. 

Sixteen years old, flirting with the surfer girls Who only wanted surfer boys, who used to hang with skater lads I bought a surfboard, fuck it bought a skateboard Barely riding either, but I rode a beat and made my raps My island never made the map, but I aint even from there, Made the move from Leicester, only supposed to be for one year Now the 90’s kids are roaming round as twenty-something’s, Buying homes, getting married but there’s plenty running From the future, I’m included in the tally – Moving through the valley of the shadow of the scallies Who may have had Dad’s, but most of us, we were carried By the mothers who were Sally’s now abandoned by their Harry’s I made this album, and it’s all about the older days Blockbuster videos, fighting over sofa space, How did Netflix & Chill come to overtake? A generation watching ads claiming that Tony’s great Frosty mornings playing footie with your only mate I was only eight getting into poetry – Note to self, not the way to get the girls to notice me, Now it is though, accidentally I got far, Further than the guys who cruised to school in posh cars, I was walking on the pavement; I was swimming when it’s raining I was gymmin’, I was training, my mental muscle was aching I was giving, I was taking from the women probably faking Face it, none of us were Casanova Though we claimed we were every time our class was over Over a glass of cola, watching Gianfranco Zola On match of the day, and imagining ways our life would pass, I hope the, child in me is still present, the child would steal presents On Christmas eve, best believe I bring the real essence Gifted in beat sessions, with memories I keep precious     Sixteen years old flirting with the surfer girls, Who only wanted surfer boys, who used to hang with skater lads I bought a surfboard, fuck it bought a skateboard Barely riding either, but I rode a beat and made my raps   Time getting faster, I change the pace Rhyming I’ve mastered to make the grade I don’t really think I could take a day In the past that I would not want back, Hop in the portal, cross that border, travel until we’ve gone back Into one flat, with the console – playing Mortal Kombat Consoled by the one fact you could beat life by kicking shins, Now I need cheat codes, here we go, for the finishing move I’m administering, the cynical lyricist living in sin Thinking of when I was innocent then, Thinking of when I was innocent then.

I was twenty to four in the morning,  during a storm - in Leicester General Hospital.  A few wards away from where I would visit my grandfather in his final days,  Which was a few wards away from where our friend  Mez would rest on his bed, And listen to the cheers of Welford Road stadium Where Leicester Tigers would be playing Rugby - And he would wish  He was once well enough to take a seat in the stand.  Many men and women have been in that ward And I wonder how many of them said they were glad To have worked their entire life, just to stay afloat Just to tread water They never got to visit that ocean, they always wanted to dive into What I mean is... Life is too...

Who the hell said don't quit your day job? You don't need be a pilot, you can take off  What you afraid of? money or the small talk it aint about the dough mate  what is this bake off? Who the hell said don't quit your night shift,  You're an illustrator, working as a typist  You're a great writer and they got as you waitress,  Throw the plate down quick, be that escapist... I worked in a warehouse a couple of nights,  got fired pretty quick cos I wasn't polite  there was a foreman I wanted to fight,  and five pounds an hour outside, no it wasn't alright. Wrote raps on the packages, I was meant to package in even more packaging, pretty damn knackering  grin like saccharin lacking in some genuine sweetness,  by the end of the week, I would've packed it in  but anyway they saved me the job,  life's not about what you make for the boss  How many of us are really so in love with our work? Oh its going quiet now, the truth that's uncomfortable hurts. Who the hell said don't quit your day job,  you don't need be a pilot, you can take off  What you afraid of? money or the small talk it aint about the dough,  what is this bake off? Who the hell said don't quit your night shift,  You're an illustrator, working as a typist  You're a great writer and they got as you waitress,  Throw the plate down quick, be that escapist I worked a for a company a month a day,  four dollars an hour, that was all I would make  the supervisor on my case said Chris quit your daydream  at least get my name right, and can I get break please? Eight hours straight, is that shit even legal?  this is for my people who are grinding for them evil corporations and they will be brave enough to leave em Believe me, it's easy - I just told em I was ducking out,  Never going back there, no fucking doubt  I'm touring with my heroes and finally my book is out  funny how I used to only rhyme for enjoyment,  now I made it actually into my line of employment  I'm laughing to the bank as I walk right past it,  forget the money, it's only paper and plastic  and how is that gonna last after I'm gone? When i'm buried in the dust, they'll be playing this song (x3) Who the hell said don't quit your day job,  you don't need be a pilot, you can take off  What you afraid of? money or the small talk it aint about the dough,  what is this bake off? Who the hell said don't quit your night shift,  You're a painter by trade, working as a typist  You're a great writer and they got as you waitress,  Throw the plate down quick, be that escapist

November rain keeping memory lane treacherous my recklessness meant many to chose to make an exodus asking where the exit is, soon after our entrances  repeating it for emphasis, my demons had no exorcist  except the microphone, you might just know i'm meant for this,  I don't know where Memphis is, but still I get some messages  from fans over there, so aware of all my sentences,  saying that they dig it, just like Stanley Yelnats did,  holes in my arguments and holes in my shoes -  cobble my blues together, singing until my soul can improve it's been a long road since the barbecues on the beach  when we were teenagers cooking up a future to reach some of us got there, some of us are washed up,  like driftwood on the tideline, I find its down to pot luck -  one second playing pool with my mates,  next second in the pocket of a beat on a stage  and it's crazy, I was never meant to make it,  I was never set to take it, everything I ever wanted,  now I claim it, payment rolling in for all of my arrangements,  came along way from the pages in the basement  Sun rising on the city its a beautiful dawn  setting off to the horizon with some music to pour Into light rays, and thunderbolts, i'm moving it forward  fire flying your dark that's what i'm doing it for. October sunshine reminding me of good times,  108 Hes lane, the kind of place to unwind   We were five guys, sharing a slice of Five Guys pizza, playing Fifa feeling luckier than nine lives hating on the girls that played our mates,  hated by the girls our mates had played  the cycle won't abate, and no debate, I don't relate  if you see yourself as a saint, even Francis of Assisi  spent his youth getting laid, frankly i'm to blame  for every ex that i've estranged, the next letter  is y, but alphabets I rearrange, avoid the question  learn my lesson and I tame the stranger in my brain  that's telling me to lose again nearly 24 years i've been here plenty more tears till I see clear  plenty more scars till I won't bleed  and there'll never be a day a healing of that I don't need  and it's crazy, I was never meant to make it,  I was never set to take it, everything I ever wanted,  now I claim it, payment rolling in for all of my arrangements,  came along way from the pages in the basement  Sun rising on the city its a beautiful dawn  setting off to the horizon with some music to pour Into light rays, and thunderbolts, i'm moving it forward  fire flying your dark that's what i'm doing it for.

Me and my own dad used to watch the football just down the road at Filbert street, it was the Saturday Routine,  Blue scarves, blue coats. When the only other sport me and my mates played was to knock on doors and sprint into the distance… into the distant past.  Way back.

Life passing by like,  flights passing high like,  comets in the twilight -  I watch em on my balcony, concoct my alchemy  turn them into souls I believe are watching out for me,  Give em names like maurice and sean, bernie and lillian  It's often at dawn, the amber colour will remind me of talks  in front of fires on the nights where the storms,  swept the city clean, Leicester city team the only thing that mattered  on a saturday, me, dad and grandad clapping in the rain  it's sad, the stadium was knocked down years ago,  wading in the past waters, waiting for the tear to flow  inevitable, with every fall my skin grew thicker,  way before I knew liquor, way before we rap battled in the school corridors saying who's sicker, through a half-chewed snickers spitting bars that would stick a-round, for a minute, then dissa- pear into the mirror? Is it clearer who you really are? My career interfering with my heart I've just done two shows, not far from my home,  said I was too busy left my Grandma alone, and only spoke of her in poems instead of showing  up to her living room, more like the surviving room  what can my writing do, won't help you know me Philomena Foley lonely still a dreamer slowly sinking on her old knees,  I was meant to be there in order to support her back,  instead I was performing the wrong sorta supporting act,  it's important that, I don't let my pride distort the facts,  yeah I was at Abbey Road recording tracks  that don't make me John Lennon, and Celia aint Yoko  reminding its loco that my vocals might be global,  only local at the moment, the opponent to my ego  she knows my arrogance is cancerous to talent bank upon the fact, that there has to be a balance  and Natwest don't care about who raps best  so yeah i'm pretty broke, in a city full of pretty folk  dizzy heights, busy lives and gritty smoke  drifting on the wings on the easterly wind  moon lining to the sun, like the queen to the king  Above the world still dreaming for the freedom to ring these are lyrical mementos, pitching up the tent poles  camping in nostalgia, and the gardens of a lost world  rarely got girls, we'd watch Jurassic park,  mix coke with menthols, our version of firearms playing knock and run till we all got tired arms  I take it back, take it back  Back to the spine,  of a story unread,  way back in a time  when, the novels untold now the pages unfold  too quick for the chapter to back and rewind

Dad came to watch a show, the first time that he saw me so,  guess it was a shock to him, to find out how the story goes switching it up with all my flows, picture my book with all the prose talking about what he was like, leaving our family on our own  but I muted that material -  time to slow it down  loop this on your ariel, save it for a rainy day -  then we'll clear the air, about the way that you said cheerio So home had a hole like cheerios, I was 14 still teary though, cry into my cereal i'm hardly fucking gangster,  aint no point in milking it, i'm silky with the stanzas  still scanning for answers through the green tint of a Heineken,  soberly I rhyme again, hold up - let me find my pen  Need an autograph? Need that signature style you find in all my raps,  got you twisting the dial now even more perhaps you're thinking i'm a big deal all you say is dough like a certain guy in Springfield,  labels want to take me the table, do we split bills? then shit mills I'm hungry like I skipped meals - tell me how a hit feels? Get an agent on the steering wheel, i'm clinging onto the wind shield -  scratch that, back track, I don't want to back scratch  just to sell my rap batch, everybody gonna want it -  like it was the last laugh, flash back,  back when I'm a kid, in the back seat of a hatch-back  way before the cross hatch potent power of a fucking hashtag Mum was getting money out the handbag, just to buy me notepads probably made my Dad mad, use to miss my matches,  I was caught up in the pattern of my rapping as it happened -  when he left I gained my words and through my verse i'm re-enacting  everybody hurts like REM  Are we men? Or are we mice?  I'm the scientist and lab rat upon the mic,  I tried to write you alpha to omega tracks  ended up with something like nostalgia for my Sega raps  no I take it back, player haters hating that  time to face the facts, like email aint invented yet  my messages are sent direct but yet to get into the sets of DJ's on 1 extra decks, i'm next to wreck assumptions I got the gumption, to use a word like gumption on the smoothest of productions, here to move you from the dungeons of the mind that you been stuck in  I'm looking from the stage at a crowd of five thousand all wanting food for thought, like provide it to us now son My Dad is in the front row,  he came to watch a show, the first time that he saw,  so, guess it was a shock to him, to find out how the story goes Part II That rain man... It’s kind of beautiful though. It’s pretty quiet on a Sunday, used to be the day that Dad would take off on the runway we’d sit there in the car park, waiting till the wings clipped clouds in the half-dark fly away on jet planes piloted by time’s hands silently it’s explained - that wasn’t a return and now i’m turning like the tides can. Place my back to the past but when I write tracks then its back to the past there are cracks in the glass of the photos on the mantelpiece its hard to be composed like a Handel piece so we can’t handle peace anymore looking for reasons to war while the heartbeats and the seasons are four. That’s when the clock strikes midnight on the open road ocean for the lonely souls, swimming through the unknown I come home and everything’s the same except for maybe me, I know that everything has changed except for maybe you, I know we’ve never been afraid to swap the small talk for the big chats like who you broke you heart and why she did that? Let’s get the pints in, here’s some money for the quiz man. That’s how the nights pass in fact... Kind of like quick sand, we sink into the bar seats. Wonder if in ten years time we’ll be switching them for car seats married to the girls we pledged our hearts to at 23, met them at the parties where everything was a blur except the artist playing but park life I prefer where we learned to ride our bikes and play five a side in the dirt Dad came to watch a show, sitting in the front row I thanked him for putting me upon this earth (sample) (Julia’s phonecall) Childhood hoodie with your Sega & Tapes Remember the days, still playing the game (x3) It’s pretty quiet on a Sunday, these are mornings that my Mum prays driving to the church in a clapped out Hyundai that still, got us where we needed to go and we rode through the storms, and the sleet and the snow told me Christian there’s one thing you’re needing to know Who you are, ain’t who you are but what you leave when you go i’m glad it wasn’t Mum that was leaving me though, she slowed down, took a left as we came to home with her right hand, she pressed on the radio it was a song that she said she hadn’t heard in sometime... It was Bill singing Aint No Sunshine.

Feels liks Bill Withers, still with us I know the flowers still wither in the chill winters Sitting on my window sill, I still shiver When the wind blows, will you still give us Sunshine when we climbed over Primrose hill I was young and you were young I felt your lips go still, frozen in the moment Felt your grip grow, steel, cold steel On your tip toe even in those heels, gold peels Of orange summer dreams wouldn’t seem eclipsed by real    Life, we had a way of running out, Like time does, with a sudden shout, Looking out, the skies blood, dripping out silver The rain came like whipping ropes Tipping over carriages, tripping on the slipping slopes Of living close, a little soaked thinking most marriages Are prison boats, plain sailing simply is a hoax, I miss you though, last saw you sinking Even when we’re swimming, I remember it with different strokes   Now what you talking about?   (sample)   Felt like Hugh Grant stumbling through Notting Hill I was a new man, wondering where you got to still? In the market to replace us, said you wanted space I gave you charming acres, harvesting the faintest Hearted feelings, I’m a villain how I faked it – Raking up the past while you break another glass Dress spilling out the cases, how hastily you pack For a long vacation, said you’re never coming back   And you didn’t  I may as well have the sunshine to do bidding, I may as well have asked the moon, To readjust the rhythm Of the ocean always kissing on the shorelines Of Britain   Hitting promenades and strolling on the coast, You see the couples coupled up, and cuddled up Against their coats, while the boats ride the tide With the patience of a lover, I sank a couple up in my time I pray that I don’t sink another Thinking of her, realizing I was never really in love, With anyone before her, it was all mirages in clubs Smoke screens, alcohol eclipses, planetary crashes In the patches of her lipstick, this is – Shine all inside your song... and ain’t no sunshine, until you find your brightest one...

We all live under various clouds, and in Leicester it rained most of the time, in Yorkshire where Mum was from it rained even more, Now in those days we had those old games consoles me and Hannah, we’d crowd onto this patchwork sofa and watch Crash Bandicoot die a thousand deaths, yes we weren’t that good. We had to share a room, she got to choose the tapes. It was was all teen angst stuff, Jacqueline Wilson, the Illustrated Mum. Tracy Beaker. Dad was still with us in those times, but he worked away. We saw him mostly in the departures lounge, so between my mum and my sister, I saw myself becoming the man of the house in those times. Still, women held up half the sky.

Guess I found a window to be sober,  under your influence, and will be till its over,  from the moment that you stroked me on the shoulder,  Guess we rolled a double six in dice games,  juggled sixty mind games, lucky that I like pain struggle not to call you when i'm drunk, and in the light rain,  Walking home, I get creative with my right brain,  and tell you where my life's at, I'm not so sure you like that,  Not so sure what me write that, I should probably give my mic back,  My grandad bought it for me just to keep me on the right track,  Now where is his advice at? I know that I could do with some, dad you raised a foolish sun,  that's probably not to do with mum,  She told me leave my print upon the world, and that's a rule of thumb Cool, I'm done.  Only joking I got more to say,  keep the ball in play,  I show my soul exposed in raw display Dancing in the pouring rain,   call my name.    Guess I found a window to be sober,  under my influence, I guess that i'm a loner,  still everything is Kosha, measure my composure I got a lotta drive but it aint getting me no chauffeur,  No sir, I wrote this on my sofa with some whiskey in the coaster,  Christian the boaster, pissed off and he's hopeless  I wonder if you notice? I wonder if you know this? I've thrown ten punches in my lifetime  Only hit the features looking like mine,  Used to hit the beaches for some peace so I could write rhymes,  I dedicate this to my people with a like mind,  Life is something you can remix, but can't rewind,  So play it something like the Phoenix, you can start to rise  This is not a man's world, you'll know it in your heart in time,  That's when the stars align  (sample) Women hold up half the sky  Mum taught me, women hold up half the sky

If women held up the sky, then the other half was caving in see one rainy evening Dad walked when I must’ve been about 14 - and he’d never live under our roof again so no matter how much sunshine our island had, it was never warm enough plus we couldn’t pay the heating bills. He left his computer though and me and hannah created fictional families on The Sims, I bet you played the Sims too. We always created with four. I think about that time now. Quite a bit, as I come home from the classroom, with students in East London and each one of them has a single mother keeping the lights on. I wonder why is no one holding a candle to this shared darkness?

Welcome to the valley, where a shadow of breath,  Blows winds that are carrying death,  And the angels have no chariots left,  Too many children who are stabbed in the chest,  Too many mothers wearing black and regrets,  Rappers are back in effect to glorify this human lack of respect They could catch you in the back of the neck,  Dramatic hacking in a panic like a manic Macbeth Life is a gamble like roulette with the black and the red So play to win, the world's dark depending on the way it spins Chorus We used play the sims, to recreate a family,  Added in the Dad, he wasn't present in reality,  Save your sympathy I never was a casualty,  Had a strong mother, and she nurtured my morality,  Taught me any dream I had deserved my hospitality,  Without her, probably would've lost my sanity,  I hope my students have a similar figure,  So they never know the glimmer of triggers While their cold blood's flowing in its shimmering rivers,  Each drop is like a billion mirrors,  Reflecting how we're living, aint no miracle with us,  Jesus Christ,  I worry bout them when I sleep at night,  On the streets where the girls sell for an easy price,  You'd be surprised at how cheap is life,  I turn to beats and mics to try to find some peace of mind Read between the rhymes I need to cry most times,  Imagine you inside a building, with suicidal children,  Who am I to try to heal them? I came from broken home,  That kinda shit hits the marrow of your bones,  Chorus We used play the sims, to recreate a family,  Added in the Dad, he wasn't present in reality,  Save your sympathy I never was a casualty,  Had a strong mother, and she nurtured my morality,  Taught me any dream I had deserved my hospitality,  Without her, probably would've lost my sanity,  I hope my students have a parent that cares, Parents evening, rarely any parents are there,  Barely aware of whereabouts of their son,  Who'll soon be graduating from a knife to a gun,  This cities reckless, some kids are never given breakfast, Or any kind of love and now their living with a death wish,  Wake Mr Cameron like slaps in the face,  He might realise the issue of these Hackney estates,  Shackled to hate, and far too trapped to escape, The only thing you have is forming gangs with your mates,  Of course I can't understand the pain,  But young boys who are man of the house, I did the same Chorus We used play the sims, to recreate a family,  Added in the Dad, he wasn't present in reality,  Save your sympathy I never was a casualty,  Had a strong mother, and we worked to get normality Taught me any dream I had deserved my hospitality,  Without her, probably would've lost my sanity.

From humble beginnings to arrogant middles I’d kept on writing, and I believed that I would be known for it Mum kept telling you’re going to be famous, you’re going to be... Be careful what you wish for though, because when you get everything you ever wanted, all you can do is lose your grip, and the more I get, the more arrogant I become. I have strained relationships, I have lost touch with mates and all of this in pursuit of keeping my mind on my tongue while my heart is thy drum...

Cue the opening titles,  Just desserts for the fat cats choke on your trifles,  Just a verse, on a rap track, but know that its vital Treat my, poem recitals like they are spoken to the scope of a rifle,  One shot, then it's sayanora Two shots, then I drain my lager,  Ten and a half more, find me on the bar floor, talking star wars,  Arguing about my favourite saga,  It's either that or bout my vacant father,  It's either that or bout my line of work  Working on my lines, and still, finding time to flirt Probably aint major news, but i'm a minor jerk I know the beats won you over, guess the rhymes are perks they at least turn the sober to the quite berserk,  four leaves on my clovers, fortune I deserve  Lady Luck about to kick me out and it might just hurt Peace if you keep your mind on your tongue Hit the right notes, don't worry how highly you're strung Keep watch and see my timing will come,  Swapped my casio for wings just to fly to the sun Chest puffed like lungs with a bicycle pump  Pride of a lion cub loving living life on the run  Ego giant like, Kobe Bryant at the height of a jump Mid flight for a dunk, high as a pilot in the sky with a blunt,  Now i'm just rhyming for fun, what's the subject? matter, realise that your subject matters,  I speak about the universe, my subject's matter,  warp the laws of physics when I subject matter to mic skills, radiation at unsafe levels,  Dropping science, like way back with my A-levels,  Take it straight back to day one,  Everything was all good we were A1 Writing billions of words, afraid to say one I wrote millions of songs, hoping you play one Peace if you keep your mind on your tongue Peace if you keep your mind on your tongue To succeed I wasn't billed as the likeliest one,  Still aint making dough though, its like i'm fighting for crumbs In the city where its hard to survive when you're young Capital gain is the capital game, L-O-N-D-O-N  the capital name, trying to cap it all with some capital fame,  my applause, thunder clap and the rain  I sit in cafe's and I scramble for change, barely paid on the capital wage, tear the scrap of a page,  Planning deep cuts, I could barely manage a graze Scribbled my vision and imagined the stage,  now i'm here and the stakes are dramatically raised,  turn your hand to a wave Peace if you keep your mind on your tongue Hit the right notes, don't worry how highly you're strung

Best be careful what you're claiming I treat my limits like a challenge,  that applies to alcohol as equally as talent,  look my conscience in the eye, say we should be embarrassed,  Rashid, good job you pulled me out the road,  and shit, lucky the police drive slow -  I'm a sucker for the flashing lights,  Acting like a dick, now I got a little bragging right Appetite for attention, not satisfied by a mention  I grab the mic with a vengeance - like look at me,  don't just like me, fall in love with me,  what's up with me? the question is repeated  messages deleted, festivals on weekends,  arrogance is peaking, I get cold looks and dizzy spells  like Everest adventurers, though I aint climbing shit I failed, the mission of being grounded,  Mum rings me up, like don't get too proud kid,  I saw you in your sound check, in a very loud outfit,  Talking about yourself - its speaks volumes to me  Just remember how I put you through uni,  Night shifts at the hospital, over time at the ward,  If you only say, how sick you are -  I'm getting bored.  (Best be careful what you're claiming) I watched myself on the tele  like, there's a kid with fire in his belly,  silver on his tongue, shit trainers on his feet,  just kicking phrases to beat, and wanting praise in the street  Truth is, i'm not even that the guy you came to see  i'm not even the guy I claim to be -  Selfish, and irresponsible Cowardly and dishonourable,  Looking for a pure heart,  I'm probably not one for you,  I'm only human, and that aint saying much,  So vein, I check the camera wonder how my face looks, I don't share my bad side all over my Facebook,  Dear listener, I don't who you are,  but maybe you are similar, every soul assimilates good and evil, most the time we're spinning plates I serve you food for thought, regardless of the taste finish take.  (Best be careful what you're claiming)

I'm an arrogant bloke, you know I always show it,  Probably why my girl would rather go and see George The Poet,  I've got a big ego, and I'll be sure to grow it,  More heroic than the suited superman, courting louis That's my kryptonite, she's on my hip tonight, she's on my lip tonight Got tickets to this hipster night, I'm probably bound to pick a fight  All I'm ever good for is starting shit, and ripping mics -  Tricky right? And when I'm down, I'm outta sight, like that missing flight,  And i'll down more than you think, I'm like a different guy,  to the smug winner, smirking on his album cover,  Use to skip my chores by saying 'i'm working on an album, mother' Mum replied it, it better go and sell  I shipped it to a label, but I never the saw the sails,  A few thousand pirates, a few drowsy eyelids,  Sleeping on me, thought I couldn't fucking story tell  (chorus) I got flaws and i'm racking em up  I got flaws, understanding and love  I got dreams and I'm stacking em up  I still dream of my Grandad above  I get deep like tuba choirs made of scuba divers,  I get deep in drunk convo's with uber drivers,  Spend my nights with alcohol burning through my fivers,  Spend my days hungover trying to manoeuvre skivers Back to cold schools, I rap to old school, the gold rule  is every track is told true, I told you, when I was just a teen,  That I would trust this dream, I wasn't in your spotlight  But now adjust the beam, I must have been fortunate  Having wise Grand dads, who always taught me this  You don't know how to love anyone else,  until you learn you gotta love yourself  I got flaws and i'm racking em up  I got flaws, understanding and love  I got dreams and I'm stacking em up  I still dream of my Grandad above 

Has the success changed you Muz, it has to,  not really mate, my mum still buys me clothes from asda,  there's your answer, and as for,  Kids who acted well vicious, now their turned to well-wishers,  saying come and chill with us, maybe you could rap a bit,  and can I get a ticket to your show, that'd be fabulous,  I'm like no, if only for the principle,  My headmaster tried to stop me rapping my initial flows,  breaking up the crowds that would gather by the English block,  Really pissed me off, I knew that i'd make it, I kid you not,  Back then, the future was a kind of joke,  I never took it serious, apart from all the rhymes I wrote But I'm lucky that I'm rising Ate my Weetabix, so none's of it surprising,  Remember sleep-overs I would sneak into the lounge,  While you were playing FIFA, I was dreaming up my sound So I'm lucky that I'm rising  Ate my Weetabix, so none's of it surprising,  When a girlfriend's asleep, I sneak into the lounge Just some to find some peace to write the right now Single mums do double the work,  I'll pay her back when I start to make some money off verse,  She had my back, acting like the cape of superheroes  allowing me to fly, since I was like a year-old,  Crash, staring out the window of my uni lectures,  Got a phone text that hit me in the solar plexus  My sister told me Dad was in an accident,   His car got smashed up but the reaper wasn't having him I thought about the man that made me all that I am,  not by being there, but not being there, understand I was angry at the guy for walking out his kid,  i'm 23 now, I should let you walk back in,  I'm glad that you were fortunate to see another day, Maybe use it as incentive, you could live another way -  I'm doing a hometown show, October the 2nd I can get you a ticket, I know you never heard me yet and,  I reckon we could work upon a plan B,  Cos what's success, coming from a torn down family? But I'm lucky that I'm rising Ate my Weetabix, so none's of it surprising,  Remember sleep-overs I would sneak into the lounge,  While you were playing FIFA, I was dreaming up my sound So I'm lucky that I'm rising Ate my Weetabix, so none's of it surprising,  When a girlfriend's asleep, I sneak into the lounge Just some to find some peace to write the right now Life is built on luck, I mean right from the conception  you are a perfect example of right time, right place,  Even if some parent's don't quite see it like that,  Dad always said he wasn't ready for children,  but he was pretty good till we were about eight -  Just lucky we had our mother to raise us,  Lucky like four leaf clovers, touching the last lamppost  seven times, picking a penny up, seeing a black cat,  hang on that might be bad luck,  My point is that lady luck, she's the one woman  you need to impress, it's just that she works on a random basis,  When I stand on stages and you ask me how I got there? It's good luck. I know that luck runs out,  I know that time runs out, I know you can't ride your luck like its the sure winner in the Grand National,  Hedge your bets, cos I bet some hedges will have your luck crash and burn like the butt end of benson and hedges,  Yes this world spins on luck, and its only luck  that keeps an asteroid for making our own problems  seem quite minuscule, and if you're still in school,  looking up to the good luck lucky hip hop poet who wears shirts from asda, all I can say,  Is apart from good luck, success has one secret mix.  Breakfast of champions.  Eat your Weetabix.  But I'm lucky that I'm rising Ate my Weetabix, so none's of it surprising,  Remember sleep-overs I would sneak into the lounge,  While you were playing FIFA, I was dreaming up my sound So I'm lucky that I'm rising Ate my Weetabix, so none's of it surprising,  When a girlfriend's asleep, I sneak into the lounge Just some to find some peace to write the right now

Jumpers for goalposts bikeshed kisses, you know what this is swing never misses,  fresh up out the kitchen,  back when you would have to pitch in with the dishes,  or your mum's getting straight up vicious  Jumpers for goalposts bikeshed kisses, you know what this is ignorant of blisses,  Back to the school days,  raised on the wishes,  of everybody, but you  Pray, you never listened  The vietnam frontline was nothing on the school bus,  the backseat thrones, that was only for the cool ones sitting by the driver and it's who the fuck are you bruv? I was in the middle, the inbetweener, who moved up  couple of seats to be seated with my school crush  us kids in the Midlands, we never said too much  I learned to rap by miming in the mirror with a toothbrush  feeling too fresh, like any year 2 does  (sample)  Years went by then I was living on an island  Looking at the kids as the bus rolled by,  when I didn't know a soul, remembering my first day ripping up the midfield up football at first break  still hanging round with a couple of my first mates,  still embarrassed now at the struggle of my first dates trying to skirt chase, like what the hell is first base  got there eventually like well it aint the worst place My first kiss getting married soon we're getting old, and now we bruise easier than yesterday, let's just say  that's how we move -  in tandem with the cycles  of life, I was falling off my bike  next second, now they call me to the mic  like say what you like  Right - then I take it into those days,  bad haircuts, break ups and close shaves  lose your V cards, boast like we killed it try your first rubber on, barely even filled it Mum giving me lectures on how to be a man  Probably would've been better if its coming from my dad,  but he ran, marathons and kept going  while his son kept flowing, flowed all the way here 2015, raise beers, say cheers, toast to the great years  Jumpers for goalposts bikeshed kisses, you know what this is swing never misses,  fresh up out the kitchen,  back when you would have to pitch in with the dishes,  or your mum's getting straight up vicious  Jumpers for goalposts bikeshed kisses, you know what this is ignorant of blisses,  Back to the school days,  raised on the wishes,  of everybody, but you  Pray, you never listened  

Remember I was skin and bone Little boy hitting the coast, Sitting and skimming stones, Picture them as flying saucers Return home for dinner time and dodge the flying saucers, Mum and dad were plate spinning, Radio was playing the rap that told me hate women, Fuck is that about, my mother was a hero, she always had my back  And her advice had my earlobe, I listened hard for a while but single parenthood is hard for a child, Check the shipwrecks I'm harbouring now,  Knight in shining armour with the metal hardly dusted, Not true it's rusted, you know I can't be trusted The years roll by like scenery from a train window Arrive here, don't seem to be the same kid though Must have been changed by baggage I brought Must have been changed by the damage I wrought Mum used to meditate to pan pipes,  I'd see her from the garden, silhouetted by the lamplight,  while I'd be swinging at the fireflies, trying to fight  imaginary war scenes, not knowing that the real ones would cause screams that would echo through the trees,  bordering the house that I planted when I was three,  back when I was a seed, spending hours by the sea,  with the breakers bringing power to the beach in the breeze Freeze,  It was nippy in the north wind, walking the peninsula  watching out for dolphins, on a pier called St Catherine's,  it's back when we cracked tins of cheap cider,  beneath the gulls who were easy riders - on air currents  that had travelled from America, small car radio listening to Erykah,  Badu, in the dark hue of blue colours painting  every evening, a picture to be framing.  At my Christening, mother wrapped me in a white cloth,  skin glistening and dripping holy water,   recorded on that old camcorder, she kept the tape,  she kept her faith, and mine evaporated,  her and dad debated, religiously the list of my names,  went with Christian James, we prayed as kids,  begging for change, certain situations every time a bridge was a flame, cry me a river,  try me and shiver, its a cold world recite to your mirror,  the promises you promised I could deliver I got them right here, five years old, grandma's dying and you were writing, 'Dear God, save her,  why you need to take her?' saw you drawing on the paper,  pale-faced woman, accompanied with angels with solar-coloured halo's, rising from the room,  while the moon lets its face show, where did the days go? I dream of grandad on many nights I wrote to you in hope that you would pen advice I took the letter, sailed it down the river Liffy  Drank so much after you passed that now my livers iffy. We spend January to December blue. I pray daily that Grandma will remember you. But Dementia eventually is merciless I ride the number thirty bus avoiding glares like Perseus.  For I see your ghost here in other faces,  instead of fourth dimensions, heavens, skies and other spaces I set two places in the dining room Ate alone then I wept and wrote this rhyme for you.

I see a thousand ghosts leaning on the lamp posts, Of old streets we danced on, making all our grand boasts I come back now and then to stand close Watching the wind where all our plans blow, My gran grows quieter   Wonder if she knows how we cared for her nightly My grandfather was her guardian, his heart was mighty Carry her upstairs, though his back was hardly sprightly Hold her tightly in his arms, while he questioned her politely   Like how’s my wife feeling? He kept his mind willing, even though his body turned cold It was spine chilling, the whole time he kept her alive Giving everything he had, he was expected to die he used to wear tight shirts to hide the tumours on his chest crying out from the pain in his room when he undressed, lying next door, I could hear him stifling the tears but I couldn’t intervene, he’d wanted privacy for years   like the last song said, Goodbyes are heartbreaking spiritual rituals so difficult to partake in at least I got the chance, Bernard died in his chair Sean died quick taking flight in the air    How do I write to you there? Wish that you could hear this Jumpers for Goalposts, a letter to my dearest Capsule of my childhood, message to the fearless watershed moment for the formerly tearless  Here this is 24 tracks for my time living  a day in the life of 24 year old giving  glimpses in the window of the building where we're sitting  listening to voices of our loved ones and reminiscing  when I was a kid I thought the stars would forever glisten  Now I give them your names and so they're never dimming  I made you all this album, and its the final song  after the goodbyes - and i'm gone