Lyrics:
The void in the truth
The energy of youth and a hole in the loop
Come with me (come with me)
Into the wrong lane
I'm gon' leave the highway
I'll do my own
givin all of my willing and rebuildin these broken buildings
Im healin these broken children Im elevatin the youth
Let em know that it ain't no ceilings
Let's enjoy the peace and make the loving increase
I remember growing up as a kid in my home town
We use to play football anywhere in the streets
Elders
the high-rising blocks, they played football every day
I lost the watch that I just got from my pocket, not my wrist
There's nothing romantic about this place,
mean fuck to me
Superficial, plastic, cosmetic exclusivity
Wealthy, hot youth
Only leave the house so you can see
That I'm more important than you'll
The plan is to make it all right
Aye
Bullets thrown faster than footballs
Now we play 2-hand touch behind prison walls, but why?
We do what we see,
my birthday
All my friends came
And we ate delicious cake
And you know we had to play
Football in the street
Till a car came
Gonna spend our time right
football keeper
Don't call we, Sheba
Brother dem chap di line, Toshiba
Crew stay making commas (Who?)
They say we ah God (True
So don't watch what nobody say
You wasted your summer
Your summer of youth
Caught in an armchair
Like a rat in a booth
Your burger was late
The Coke has gone flat
You're paying
from the space, call me alien
Dawgi football, you can line them
Even when I'm seven days weak Mbape, I'm a kill all'em
Young black boy from the red gold
She got caught in 4K on the Skippy Toilet, with rice in her milk and she take you down it in Ohio
Down them avenues where they'll fuck all youths
The only thing I know is how to catch a football with my chest all because my winter gloves is too slick
The boots don't move quick, my hands have no grip
cause he got some kids
I wanna see that lil' boy dead, I don't wanna see that boy live
I wanna see that boy with his kin, maybe at the youth football game
lowered trucks and concert shirts
It's a great place for children and pets
It's a rural cage with no need for walls
The blind youth crawl insanely towards
doesn't know my name
Sometime I go and watch him at his football games
But one of these days I'm gonna tell him the truth
'Bout who his old man is who I
Remember those dark nights down Brickfield
Never a blade in sight
Brickfield Nights
No youth club, no coffee bar
Saturday was the local
voices
I was too smart for football, too short for hoops
So I rode with the Crips and cliques thick with troops
X-Raided them tricks hated but I don't
Let's remember we've got a couple of centuries
Of this type of violent youth crime
In predominantly white communities in Britain
The overwhelming
the rain drops cool
Neighbors and dwellers spatter in the pool
Kids playing football with his hand and sock
We had what we got, and it wasn't a lot
No
Speak about my trials and tribulations
But stay hidden Honestly, the football kinda got me feeling
Different Money try exposing my flaws on all these
and I will always be Christians Brother
Everyday after school
We would always play football
Up against that old stone wall
Imagining ourselves out there
at Maskell's got respect
I used to listen to Public Enemy
Erik be and Rakim and BVSMP
But before that in 1983
I'd go break dancing after my tea
Down the Youth
You got a football to be cool
Respect the teacher he knows best
Be a robot like the rest
Brainwashed, brainwashed
Respect the tie and suit
the Youth Firm and the Rodgy Nutty Boys
Going down the County Saturday afternoon
Making a draw yogurt heated up on a spoon
Adam and Dipper would come round my
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