Kunci: C major
Verse 1
Bbm
You feel it all around you,
in my surroundings
It's
Tony
Rotten, still down with downtrodden
Got to snipe scoundrels
and cancel flat squatting
We used to get the guns from rock
bottoms for next to nothing
And now I'm plottin' a little somethin'
to start the rotten cottons
The ghetto's my umbilical cord,
source of my lyrical thoughts
Soul food for my metaphysical
thoughts
Defendin' the cause with energy source
Inner city gritty, picket street off
Rebel
MC with the cause
Powerful, strong, black voice
Young social activist
Speakin' in barbed wire tongues,
fleshy like actuses
Runnin' commentary on
dysfunctional malpractices
Got them shit in their briefs like
they swallowed narf laxatives
Street sound pirates,
broadcastin' illegally
Department of
Trade and
Industry keep on policing me
They want to muffle
the sound of the struggle
The philosophies of
Black
Aristotles and hide the
truth from the youth
Raiding the gates,
looking to stop the sounds we circulate
All they find in the flat was
Flat
Eric and certain tapes
News travels rapid on the streets
Minds on the manor's got the scanner
So evocate premises before they reach
Tie a screech, flee in the scene
Neighbourhoods watch your speech
Each one teach one and be discreet
No informers get big dub
On street corners they
get frigged up
Dub culture breeds hooligans
and thugs
Who walk streets chipped up
Kitted out in camouflage, combat garms,
not even long arm
Bulletproof jackets are safe from ratchets,
strong arm tactics
That's the disorder of the
D, the beast will slaughter your
brave for any little of free, see
The f***ing mass around you,
every day
The f***ing mass around you,
that's the sound
You feel it all around you,
Observing the city from my landing,
surrounded by flats abandoned
Some tower blocks reduced to rubble,
some troubled spots still standing
Sounds of
African,
Caribbean and
Mandarin
Mixed blessings and understandings
Old blokes are like brooks with hopes
of backing winners
Bookmakers with crook status
attract the business
We used to be the buyers,
now we're sellers
Street traders and vendors,
earn a ton
Big spenders, relentless vendors
It's strange how things change
like weather over seasons
I'm retracing my steps
to examine all my achievements
I ain't done too bad,
considering the odds
Could've been swimming in rivers of blood,
hard liquor and drugs
Low wage jobs available,
everyday's a struggle
Life ain't no doddle,
it's inevitable we squabble
Trouble brews like bitter in a pub
Juvenile gangs run riots in playgrounds
When barred from youth clubs
they form splinters
Masses roll deeper than thinkers
Hook line and sinker,
they take the bait and then they whimper
Temptation is great when facilities
to recreate is hindered
I could have been a pro
footballer or a sprinter
But nowhere to train a chill
blaze in the winter
Met my sporting goals burnt to cinders
A paradise bar of war singers
And trigger happy gunslingers
With love and hate tattooed
on eight fingers
I'm surrounded by sounds the world's forgotten I'm
a product that's why my last name's rotten
I've seen and heard the screams
of births and burials
Surround sounds in
Nike, I'm digital stereo
Stuffle government officials,
break promises and bonds
Diss you and upscan and blow
funds and blunt bombshells
I'm surrounded by a bunch
of incompetent housing officers
Skating round big issues
like a plague from hell
Last winter gave them a call,
told them bout my frozen pipes
Got put on hold in the cold and told
they'd fix it overnight
All night long I waited,
my freezing bollocks was hurting
I didn't have heating,
double glazing or thermal curtains
Still I get bailiffs daily threatening
to seize my goods
So far they've had no access
to repossess touch wood
I heard a loud thud,
PC plod from the drug squad
On the early morning drug bust
with naff dogs
They'd had demands on the
other watching them juggle
Collecting evidence for four months
just waiting to burst a bubble
It's bare worries and trouble
but we're bare the brunt
Roll with the punch and come
out smelling like a rose bunch
Them minicab drivers want
their money up front
You see I ain't trying to be funny
I just have to be blunt
Yeah we're still living it up,
not giving a fuck
It ain't about citizen
Kane, it's not about citizen
Chuck
Yeah, I'm still living in the area
Still getting scarier
Here is the surround sound.
Everyday.
That's the sound.
Everyday.
That's the
Everyday.
You
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