Jail house banging Couple weeks riding basic They lack emotions in there All that energy into hatred Lot of man couldn't take it Seen a screw get a facelift With a knife that was makeshift Pad 22 shouting take this Stab and bend it No pretenders Can't pretend it They laughed when I said young offenders My oh my Young killers in this YOI Full of shanks & story benders Only the truth could offend us If we're talking about that metal door B15 to C44 Doors banging like c4 It's been a month already Only 40 more Pad d18 I was riding Ops on the wing I was gliding Got the drop dropped Perfect timing Had him doing cunch For a couple month Went up to see how he was Heard him on the phone to his Marge She thought he was training Down south For his footy team But he a dotty in his Gucci bag Mixing it in water with the steam Bro forgot his dream His mom kept calling and calling But he was sat Letting the trauma set From what he Witnessed that morning It's mad we thought The trap was important So important we forget us & ours Walking the roads for hours Like money Had some sort of powers Over me I knew but I couldn't shake it Trap phone buzzing Was my day shift Writing rhymes in the bando Now I make hits Mad thoughts When I blaze biffs Camden In a morning sales quick Brixton on a night Milly in this holster That was 11 hundred quid That life made me brazy Wouldn't speak up And tell my mumzy shit I was raised In that type of home I had to chose This chopper or the microphone Or turn this wing into my home Soon be home slanging Bros still curb side toe taggin Man them times was so blaggin They was out on road On the bonnet then back in Laughing like it's cool Like they missed the food Or something I need my freedom Lemonade with rum in Nobody opened doors They never said come in Name with a number on A double 0 double 7 DF Numbered for life Like it's tatted on my skin Pad d19 was bro bro First 4 month ticking by So slow I'n this room head could relax I was thinking about my baby mum And my son Asking if I'm coming home And her saying he's no no Phone calls to my mum Hearing about some madness Pain in my heart Tears on my mattress Trauma a call away But I was raised on You either be or see badness It's fish& chip Friday No b***h, shit You ain't f****ng with my day Life of crime Does look like it pays Used to feel good When I was hitting 120 on them Highways I was freed Bye snakes Fled over seas Made a couple Of moves with some gs Only spoke in Spanish No bando the condo was lavish Swapped my lizzy For some euros No chicken and waffles But I had that lobster & some churros More to life than a block of flats It was hard took a loss Head high big kav your a boss Had to use my mums yard To pull a crop Swear some tasted like The flaves That them vapes pack Bud sweat & beers Drove to barca I got it all back Back to the Villa We're the rizla at Sometimes I miss jail For the gym time 50kgs with this skinny Yute from huds He was in for some sick crime Had a chat about Some paper work Then it moved onto buds No bench press But bruddah moved weight So we linked When we touched road Dn14 stepping bro Never been code 4year locked up straight Trap when he bin home Kinda miss mopping blood Off my pad floor Bible page billing 80 bar & I rolled 4 Became what I am in them 4 walls Jail house living Couple months on the outside Free my gs it's about time Chilling with some riff raffs Yeah we skipped maths Had to flip a quick pack Something sharp In my jacket when I zipped that Wrist used to hurt When I whipped c***k Made the nittys had to sit back Can't lie I just did that