Staring at the city from the height of my home
Thinking about what back street to roam
I am born from the city, but I’m in no gang
There ain’t no revolution around where I hang
Out for a good time, no money to spend
So I revised on how many rules I’ll bend
To get what I want no income support
No medals or honours for the battles I fought
Get my shit together throw my coat on my back
Pick up my pipe and my weed and set out on my tracks
Out into the open, vulnerable to the streets
Cautious but ready about the people I meet
I see a light in the distance so I ring the bell
Top floor flat the music’s loud as hell
It’s a high class ghetto, it’s where we meet
But we talk, smoke a weed before we hit the street
Tramp on the corner buzzed cold out of his head
Knee high in a blues, someone else is dead
Riot van cruising slowly staying close to my arse
Right turn down an alley and time was ours
Carried on with the mission on what punks to tax
A group of fools lay in our tracks
Hustle to the middle picking rockets and all
I feel a blow to the head, so I started to brawl
Beat the fools down, took control on their cash
Straight down to my brother’s house to buy a quarter of hash
Cold chilling with smoke put together with skins
The clock hits one, that’s when the party begins
This ain’t no fantasy
Just a swift kick in reality
We meet our destination in a stench in a crowd
Round an empty corner where the speaker is found
This place had no class, it wasn’t the Ritz
But we could sit down and chill and go get blitzed
With my bottle, special brew is my sip
I’ve got some ill freak face and he’s talking shit
The time rolled on and we decided to leave
Hit the doors headed out to the morning breeze
Breathed in deep to try and clear my head
Turn around SPG van lay dead ahead
It was the dibble that we shook off from earlier on
I spun around started running
My boys were gone, I was on my own
Leaving dust for my trail
But every effort I made wasn’t gonna fail
Running strong through the city, keeping my head down
Put the beast to shame, because I knew my ground
This ain’t no fantasy
Sweet dreams
Stayed awake all night but felling tired and weak
Got the music turned down so I could hear the street
I hear the revs of an engine
I hear a side door sum
First connected my door 3 or 4 loud bangs
Butterflies in my stomach as I prowled down stairs
Hear the voice of my posse
Yo, Tunes you in there?’
I unlocked the door, hustled them all in
Said to my partner Calvin
‘Where the fuck you been?’
Him and the boys got run through town
Jay big got gripped
Pigs beat him down
We stayed quiet for a second and reminisced
But it’s survival of the freshest and that’s the way it
Ain’t no fantasy
Just a swift kick in reality
I’m classed as a thug, no more at all
A number in a book, another brick in the wall
Over population but no accommodation in the house of love
There’s no organisation, they vote about nothing
And nothing gets solved
Kinnock’s only word is ‘Let’s get rid of the bomb’
He is a fool, he got no sense and Thatcher is just as dense
Her only worry is ‘more pounds and pence’
It’s a never ending race and no-one ever wins
But we all get punished for someone else’s sins
They say the kids are the cause of all this trash
And our living’s a crime but they live in the past
Young boys are abducted, young girls are raped
Babies are born and classed as fucking mistake
You ask why we’re violent, you must be blind
But no-one gives a shit ’Cause they ain’t got the time
This is no fantasy
What you see before you is flesh and bone