Before I Was Ceebo

Young bull with the pepper grains Mumzy's prayin for better days Back then he would step with his mates Now mates all bang on the gauge for the wage When life ain't mean sutin lethal Before the bine started hitting my people Before a man went and got him a ego This was before he was ever called Ceebo Been outside with the Gs from the Hill and the Field South West hot manna still in the field Live on the blocks man chill with the steel Time don't stop man the feeling is real Seen more than a man could take Outside since back in the days The reason I'm rapping this way, and it goes like Young buck with the motor mouth SW2 where he rolled around Top of the towers, the one with no showers But he's still proud of his ends he shouts Before ride outs, sammys and nines Bang ball with Jaze, my guy Brixton market weekly, he flies With the marj tryna bargain on lower price Mum fed them well, but the ends were hell These times he's only 9 Young chris not the lonely type He buss out a dance it'll all be fine Had less but I guess he ain't know Cos all of his bredins was poor on his road Uncles blazing 'dro, but they told him Stick to his books and grow Got gassed when he got a brick phone Big dreams, man wan live inside a big home These times he was playin' online He ain't know what it meant when a nigga clicked chromes Marjae a grinder, Pops had a pipe dream Both played different roles Both had two hard goals, just a verse in the life of New Park Road Fast forward, he's a bit older, world's got colder he's seen the shit Blood on his hands, and it weren't even his That's why the mandem would call him Bhris Pops left, got depressed And the ends been gettin' so violent Close friends on road been riding Even more guys his age been dying And his problem's multiplying Eviction notice stuck on the fridge Can't change much so it is what it is No doing it lidge if you live in the bits Carry arms cos garms cost an arm and a leg Blud a man might catch him a homi' Jakes on the ends, like yeah do you copy Another day pass and they're finding bodies 14 in the concrete jungle Just tryna live so the don keeps humble School days if his boys had beef just peep See Bhris tryna break up rumbles Times hard, so he got him some armour Fuck all the pain he would dwell on it after Back then he was tryna get bala By any means didn't care bout karma Young boy he was still with the books But would chill with crooks, dem man were the homies But he knew they would soon turn CoDs So more time he would chill on his lonely Hostel in Stockwell he call home but more time he's still lost Price to the life, is struggle and strife But it felt like he couldn't pay that cost