(No Ratings Yet)Brotherman spitting wisely on a sick Chemo beat.
CHORUS:
- Out my window I see them in the park again,
- Sun’s gone down; they’re fighting in the dark again,
- All of them are just young children,
- What is in the heart of dem?
- X2
VERSE 1:
- Wagwan for the yoot of today?
- Strong non-believers,
- Constantly out on road looking at eaters,
- It’s standard procedures to jack a man’s phone,
- Ran home to check out the features,
- Leeches carve niches,
- In the same streets supposedly once walked by Jesus,
- And the weapon is prevalent in and amongst the fighting,
- Just another pack of villainous youngsters fighting,
- Underlining the fact that the findings are blinding,
- Most miss the signs and can’t help combining the wrong with the lack of the right thing,
- Inviting by citing, quotes in the writing,
- Unnourished even with a can full of nourishment,
- Needing the back of the hand that spells punishment,
- Too proud and disallowed by the Government,
- Lost in chaos but trying to govern for the fun of it.
CHORUS
VERSE 2:- Certain man out there, figure they’re bigger,
- Quick to pull trigger, but is it the way?
- Heard them say that: you could get popped in broad day,
- That gunman today nah play, but a life, man a play with,
- Me? I say this and stay one step ahead of the predators, ready to prey,
- Stray bullet takes a life away, and slay, unknown peeps that get left where they lay,
- No time taken, no doubt or delay,
- Heat like the weather in May.
- Being seen done, never say never but never again,
- Who cares and when will it change?
- I’ve gotta come stronger; no longer the under-bitch,
- With new tricks, flip to tip to top, top to toe tactics,
- I’m just a maverick that lacks static,
- It’s just music so I use it to prove it.
CHORUS
VERSE 3:- Whatever is the word of the weak?
- And 8 out of 10 cats are too fucked up to speak,
- Newspapers leak, ******************,
- Skeletons out the closet walk the streets,
- The bobby that you’re clocking ain’t the ones on the beat,
- Fresh meat, hit delete, follow your feet,
- Bust up the battleship but watch for the fleets,
- Of hood rats and skeets, from raasclaarts to bloodcleets,
- Retreat. Both wide Earth and Ocean deep is given to those who creep,
- To holding keep, along with whatever you manage to reap,
- In light of the road steep, my future bleak,
- Black-Enroe, throwing the racquet at the umpire,
- All speak nothing but the slang of the Empire.
- All this may seem a little like a dream,
- Though it’s just straight spitting from Brotherman and Chemo.
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What is in the heart of dem ?