Original pirate material Yer listening to the streets Lock down your aerial Make yerself at home We got diesel or some of that homegrown Sit back in yer throne, turn off yer phone 'Cause this is our zone Videos, televisions, 64's PlayStations We're paring with precision Few herbs and a bit of Benson But don't forger the Rizla, Lean like the tower of Pisa Liza, I'll raise yer, And this is the day in the life of a geezer For this ain't a club track Pull out yer sack and sit back Whether you white or black Smoke weed, chase brown Or toot rock We're on a mission, support the cause Sign a petition, summon all your wisdom The music's a gift from the man on high The lord and his children Triple teen year rudeboys Come rain or snow the boodah flows You don't know? Stand on the corner watch the show 'Cause life moves slow Sort yer shit out then roll Sex, drugs 'n' on the dole Some men rise, some men fall I hear ya call, stand tall now Has it come to this? Original pirate material Your listening to the streets Lock down your aerial I'm just spitting, think I'm ghetto? Stop dreaming, my data's streaming I'm giving your bird them feelings Touch yer toes and touch the ceiling We walk the tightrope of street cred Keep my dogs fed, all jungle all garage heads Gold teeth, Valentinos and dreads Now, we were verbally slapped up Physically tip-top, spinally ripped up I do the science on my laptop, get my boys mashed up Your listening to the streets You'll bear witness to some amazing feats Bravery in the face of defeat All line up and grab yer seat 'Cause Tony's got a new motor Sr nova driving like a joyrider Speeding to the corner Yer mother warned yer to sound system banger Has it come to this? Original pirate material Your listening to the streets Lock down your aerial My underground train runs from mile end to Ealing From Briton to Boundsgreen My spitting's dirty my beats are clean So smoke weed and be lean I step out my yard through the streets In the dead heat all I got's my spirit and my beats I play fair don't cheat And keep the gangsters sweet Turn the page, don't rip it out at yer age Move to the next stage Lock the rage inside the cage, Like sk it's new day But don't take the shortcut through the subway It's pay or play, these geezers walk the gangway Deep seated urban decay, deep seated urban decay, Rip down posters alight From last weeks big garage night And the next Tyson fight I cook em at ninety degrees Fahrenheit And don't copy the copyright I got em in my sites, blinding with the lights Taken to dizzy new heights Blinding with the lights, blinding with the lights Dizzy new heights Has it come to this? Original pirate material Your listening to the streets Lock down your aerial.