ramson badbonez - deep in the streets lyrics
[verse 1]
wagwan for the empty minds addicted to this street life
with little girls kissing teeth and hissing like they’re felines
boys get hit with basketball numbers don’t even see light
in the place that freezes time while heads on road eat off the b and white
surrounded by crack fiends with cheap advice
all they ever seeks the pipe, living in these evil times
see heads get desperate and go teef bikes and robbing
in the block with entertainments of freestyles and beatboxing
some get so close to death they literally see the coffin
guns are revealed, machines c-cking when the beefs knocking
youngn’s are running round with razor blades
because others won’t hesitate to take your place in the paper chase
to lick shots and flip papes on a bait estate
with afros like macy gray for those rainy days
its like a naked flame the way the block’s are red hot
deep in the street people watch the beef setting off
[hook] x2
deep in the street with the young and old roaming
negativity overrules there’s no hoping
it’s handcuffs, to backseats, police cells to court rooms
the sweat box with no clue, then straight to the banger
[verse 2]
who lives where the gun man are crazy and just pop shots
and not even watching for the babies playing hop scotch
eight year olds inhale smoke and need teach him manners
back when i was young you catch beatings for the back chatting
cus school is boring, they’re bothering the shops on corners
too young for pigs to charge, so we got a caution
when heads are riding it through winter to autumn
finally touch road and their shits out of proportion
fresh out the pin and willing to sling for their fortune
until their luck runs out and they’re shifting to the court room
for breaking all the laws that they force you to abide by
devils in telvisions polluting up your child’s mind
blocking thoughts like limescale clogging up the pipelines
while judges kick back and watch the number of the crime rise
the whole world is cursing worse as it turns
shout out to all the peoples jamming on the curb with the work
[hook] x2
cus its deep in the street with the young and old roaming
negativity overrules there’s no hoping
it’s handcuffs, to backseats, police cells to court rooms
the sweat box with no clue, then straight to the banger
[verse 3]
gatherings on benches full of kids with absurd mouths
broken lips, pissy steps, rubbish skips are burnt out
parents always swearing and battling with young rebels
calling it ghetto, riding a bmx with one pedal
wealthier folks intimidated by their presence
sweating through their white collar swearing they carry weapons
racks the size of cats, every hood has been infested
souls feeling rejected and kids getting molested
the unemployed grind it out life clearly not enjoyed
hanging round the bigger boys talking like guns are toys
pensioners trembling in fear hoping they disappear
crystal clear rackets of electric scooters fills their ears
local riff raff from the age of nine
smoking the b-tts off of the ground, with some glazing eyes
while the young chicks on the block all f-ck like sluts
plus if we can stop the madness maybe god might trust
[hook] x2
because its deep in the street with the young and old roaming
negativity overrules there’s no hoping
it’s handcuffs, to backseats, police cells to court rooms
the sweat box with no clue, then straight to the banger
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