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Local Boy

"Local Boy" is the second single from the British indie rock band The Rifles, from their debut record No Love Lost. The single was released via Right Hook Recordings in November 2005 and reached number 36 in the UK singles chart. more »

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I might go rob all the wealthy
Tryna better my health 
I feel like I'm Thomas Shelby
F*ck it I'll do it myself
Start with the strap of my belt
Heard my name outta your mouth 
Grabbin you by your lapel
Now get the f*ck out of my house
Two tone two tone 
Better watch how we cook up the 2 for 
With 2 fold outs and a futon
Finna pack that house like a group home
Jerry passed right out in the studio
Huh huh. I think it's time
Drop a lil sumn n f*ck up they minds
F*ck all you bitches, get no love from mines
Huh. Huh. Huh. Huh. F*ck ya life
Let that hate spread like a butter knife
Wanna catch a fade cause of the other night
Get home late. My bae keep on the oven light
Wake up my neighbours wit dis
Don't you peep over the fence
I thought we made an agreement
If you dont like it, eat a dick
Big wolf comin at you 
lil piggies. Y'all dont let nobody in
We brought a bitch home
Thought she was gonna hop into our bed
Ayyye
You tote a pistol
I can tell that you will never use it. Yeah. Ayyye
You get your friends
To handle your dirty work for you instead. Yeah. Ayyye

What you wanna know
This is how it go
When you comin toe to toe
You get sunned, get exposed
Inouneno
I been thru this once before
Bitch you took too many those
We can't help you with your woes
Keep your life down on the low
You can't escape the seeds you've sown
Soon enough your seed will know
Your thot gone leave you no remorse
I can see right thru your smoke
Your life's in pieces on the floor
How's it feel for you to know
You gon be forever alone

Count em up
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
All the L's
That you take
All the tales that you make up
Count em up
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Friends in jail
Foes is safe
You a fail you a fake
Count em up
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
All the funds you collect
All the lives that you wrecked
Count em up
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
All the goons you respect 
Who gon soon be at your neck
Count em up...

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 
9 motherfuckers
Tryin hard to stab you in your back
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
9 of em all become a victim
Of each other's past

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