Trouble

The young people have begun the rebellion, refusing to work They have received very little support from other sections of the population As a consequence of which, they must find money by these means We say we are against those means Not because we are moralists, not because we are religious freaks But precisely because mugging involves loss of life and liberty And the continuing attack upon that section of the black community Police brutality, prison brutality, a whole wastage of human creativity That is why we are against it Politician, hush don't make a sound Been oppressing us, couple centuries now And these gunshots never reach your town It's never on top when you leave your house But when we go southerns We might run into some beef or somethin' Rambo tucked into the jeans or somethin' But the beef, please drop it 'cause it don't make money All our mothers worry when we touch the road 'Cause they know it's touch and go whether we're coming home And either that's for shit that could happen to us Or the shit we might do if you violate the code It's turning over new leaf times Moschino jeans full of peace signs Postcode warring, that's the thing now Young bucks beefing over street signs You ever seen a mother's tears run down Gucci glasses? The imagery will hit you deep and cut through the hard shit The hood potential not reached due to gun barking It's bad business for the ends man, I'm done talkin' It's all fun keeping score when it's one-nothing 'Til loved ones get duppied inside a nine nights Any beef can be squashed if hands could be shaken Any hand can be shaken when the blood dries I guess that's not a thug line But Canning Town and Plaistow, that's where the thugs die Where the slugs fly, then the doves fly And if you say you like beef, then you thugs lyin' These are my words to us, no tongue tyin' If you stay up ridin', 'til the sun's risin' And you're just tryin' to get one, or get bun tryin'? Then we ain't on the same side of this sterling linin' Politician, hush don't make a Yeah, no I hear you, oh my God, I can see one of them on the floor He's on the floor and he's got a knife wound, and I can see a man tossing a .9 He must be about sixteen or seventeen Trouble, Trouble I don't need no trouble Trouble We don't want no trouble I know some youngers that will beef on the Main road Violate the clique and then the K go They will off a brother on my say so But when they're given thirty could I look mum in the face though? (No!) Concrete roses, they really grow shit, you see my whole set Don't watch the Rolex, just watch the progress From mopeds, coke heads and the old Ghetts Fifteen with a dream, twenty with a gold disk Twenty-one, second crib before I got my own whip Twenty-seven, twenty-eight and nine was my lowest Thirty reupped again, thirty-two, more checks So why would I throw away life for some jokers? Hopeless, ain't blocks with no Lopez Opps in the Focus I know the roads, yes but when the goal's bread, it makes no sense Less condolences and more congratulations Bought a smile to my face, I heard that Sammy's trading And K just had a baby, D's an uncle ain't he? Just got off the phone with Shane, he's investing major gravy Ghetts ain't looked back since we blessed them stages Now man are stepping on planes with our bredrin Aidan Still conflicted 'cause man are busking on Netflix But I show you both sides of the fence, watch out for splinters Rats and sinners, gangsters, killers With straps and ringers Tax and figures, your stash was dinner, agh My only obligation is give inspiration This the winners' table and here's your invitation No sparklers over 'ere and all the women taken We just pop bubbles, pour doubles, we want no trouble Whine two gyal, we want no trouble Just spend three grand, we want no trouble Four more bottles, we want no trouble Don't mean we're scared of nobody Life's just too short for the bullshit man Politician, hush don't make a sound Been oppressing us, couple centuries now And these gunshots never reach your town It's never on top when you leave your house But when we go southerns We might run into some beef or somethin' Rambo tucked into the jeans or somethin' But the beef, please drop it 'cause it don't make money Police man, hush don't make a sound Been locking ghetto yutes up centuries now And these gunshots never reach your town It's never on top when you leave your house But when we go southerns We might run into some beef or somethin' Rambo tucked into the jeans or somethin' But the beef, please drop it 'cause it don't make money