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