Im from the manor where man'll have you shittin in your draws,
where talk leads to beef, and beef leads to bores,
scores to settle, this shit is heated like a kettle steaming,
mans be dreamin, but still theyre livin poor, scheming,
shottin rocks on corner spots, where coppers watch shottas,
in london, where kids a run men out the ends, for fun n,
sores get lashed, yards raided, get trashed, get paper,
dead neighbours out back, shit is grim,
ima from a place where watchin face attracts hate,
and haze lurks in these streets like pollution,
blood staines pavestones are just contributing,
its a bloody evolution for the youth of tommmorrow,
no sorrow, no sympathies for these fiends who crave,
who murder, steal and rape for a slice of white cake.