[Intro: Ghetts]
G-H
Yazmin
Wretch 32
I breathe heavy
Open your eyes, man
[Verse 1: Ghetts]
Take a journey with me
Pretend I'm the tour guide
No MAC, just the .45
Welcome to London
Where some talk the talk
But me, I walk the walk
And you can tell from my bunions
Niggas get set up and held for a lump sum
They bringing drama to your mum’s drum
Fling on your armour when they come, son
Fill 'em up with dum dums
Nowadays, the young ones are worse than the olders are
They'll burst just to gloat and laugh
Don’t be so surprised
Because I'm around with no disguise
I know you noticed I socialise
With niggas that come from broken homes
And we don't vote
'Cause even if we did, we wouldn't see no hope
So now I'm Nino with a kilo
Not giving a fuck if fiends overdose
I keep most my notes
When niggas won't look, I'm taking precautions
He’ll get run up on eight in the morning
There’s no escaping extortion
So a flame is important
Even if you ain't making a fortune
Niggas want a portion
But taking my money is something like taking an organ
[Chorus: Yazmin]
This is the real life, we call it street life
So much pain, this world’s so cold
This life's deserted, the guns and violence
There's so many fiends out on the road
Young people dying, mothers crying
They're still tryna fight it, hard to stray
Some people have nothing
They’re living life lonely
Sleeping out on the streets at night
[Verse 2: Wretch 32]
Listen, I'm from the roads where there's no fear
You'll get your face lift on your own stairs
The lift's out of order, so, they gotta pass the body
Stinking out half the lobby
And if my prints are on the bricks
Then there'll be charges on me
Someone's gotta talk
The sergeant's marching, looking answers
Questioning, the question is
Who did it?
Matter of fact, who didn't?
Catch .22s like two digits
Surrounding my ends
And it's drowning my head like a huge fitted
But I've gotta move with it
Becah' it's kill or be killed
Matter of fact, put a stick in your wheel
Becah' a gun war can turn into your son's war
Surname associated
And they'll be bursting the chrome at faces
But I ain't 'fraid of nuttin'
Darg, I can work, you were made redundant
I move food, I can shave an onion
I'm smooth too, 'cah I can date your loved one
Ha, yeah, so don't get it twisted
If you hear that I made a lump sum
[Chorus: Yazmin]
This is the real life, we call it street life
So much pain, this world's so cold
This life's deserted, the guns and violence
There's so many fiends out on the road
Young people dying, mothers crying
They're still tryna fight it, hard to stray
Some people have nothing
They're living life lonely
Sleeping out on the streets at night
[Verse 3: Ghetts]
If your home
Is in a war zone where laws are broke
Where rich kids make a mockery of poor adults
Lord knows, I've bored foes
Don't ever think you're safe because your doors are closed
And with no qualifications, ha
The only way to go legit is spit or score goals
And you can ask Lew
Producing beats, reducing sleep, are you a star, too?
You gotta do at least a tune a week
Make use of fast food
That's the food we eat, it's food at least
I stack Ps and treat Nandos like McD's
That's everyday, it's that peak
Then it's back to the back streets
Where the cats meet
Heroin and crack fiends
That keen that I could give a one of each in return for a flat screen
That's just the perks of my job
I work with Charlie and I'm working with Bob
It's 2007, I'm counting my weapons
I'm raising my papers, so, my house be in Devon
Out by eleven
Being a fiend, it's in my genes
Like it's found in my denim
I'm around with them villains
From Canning Town to Peckham
Take a motherfucking look
I'm in a motherfucking hood
And the life I live has even got my mother touching wood
Nutters love to bust a nug
Every second, feds cuff another crook
It's regular around here
So many moves are made
Even though most moves are flames
Yeah, I still move the 'caine
Wishing I could move away
[Chorus: Yazmin]
This is the real life, we call it street life
So much pain, this world's so cold
This life's deserted, the guns and violence
There's so many fiends out on the road
Young people dying, mothers crying
They're still tryna fight it, hard to stray
Some people have nothing
They're living life lonely
Sleeping out on the streets at night
