split prophets - the mo lyrics
(verse one – res one)
remember black kappa’s with the hat backwards
or tracksuits tucked into max’s or strap cl-ssics
back before i knew that crack would attract addicts
and the needles we found in the sand would pack damage
i remember bedminster being the mad p-ssage
from east end to north street i saw scenes i never fully understand then
but see we transcend from little man to mandem
your eye span widens and wizens to your surroundings
from snakes and ladders to snakes and blaggers
where age is added up and cars to pay for packets
rizla and crates are p-ssing
the station we’re sat in, til we hit the paint and waving patterns
it was skating in the day then later i’m graffing, rapping, blazing and scr-pping
then back to the park, dame emily essentially the centre piece heart
of where we grew, moved, repped it and marked except from the start
this one’s for the fam of the yard, know who you are
(hook)
yo it’s d-e-a-n l-a-n-e
rep til the end
from the hardcore skaters, the painters and friends
to the little scally wags on the raise in the blend
yo it’s d-e-a-n l-a-n-e
rep til the end
from the burnt out two strokes, the blokes with the pens
to the crack addicts damaged trying to make it to ten
(verse 2 – upfront mc)
yo i was raised in the mo
full of bagheads all raising for dough
we used to run around the streets late evading patrol
blazing a spliff, causing a scene
cause we had nout else better to do if you know what i mean
so we’d go to the dean
could almost guarantee some sort of sh-t going down
but it’s all part of the package, if you know the sound
hold your hands in the sky and say dean lane
the park we grew up in and lived in through our teenage years
hopping on and off of rooftops on a weekdays
here’s an introduction to the place we rep and each place clear
yeah, some of the jokest sh-t i’ve ever seen
some things that i’ll never forget
some things that i wish that i didn’t see
literally this place is where we started our whole show
and i’m gonna rep the bits until the whole world knows of our postcode
skaters, kiddies kicking a ball around the court
drinking beers, dreaming ‘bout papers
crackheads in the park choking on vapours
lose your money like vegas if you gamble
and get caught making wrong moves around your neighbours
(hook)
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