[Intro] When I was younger I wanted to be on the field dribbling, A footballer, Not like Messi but like Litmannen, Some things people would say were out of order, The abuse me and my mum went through I had to say good bye to my dreams, Listen, Listen, Are you listening? Listen! [Verse 1] We’re immigrants, Our skin like cinnamon, Mummy fought for us to be citizens, Music helps me express myself in this cruel world we’re living in, We were deported by the government of England, That shit made me livid, And, When we moved back to this country some of the shit that I’d be witnessing, Would be blistering, And, Scar me for weeks then months then years, I’m still treated like a criminal by most my peers, Even though I’m innocent, And, still after all these years, I try to sleep and hold back my tears, I try to forget my fears, Younger me was so pitiful, People always grinding my gears, These dickhead queers, That always sneer, Give me a minute, and listen with your ears, [Verse 2] It’s not nice to grow up in a neighbourhood where people sell drugs with bandoleers, It’s not nice to grow up with a daddy that disappears, and have bottles of whiskey as souvenirs, And where people stab each other over where they live, And where everyone’s either stoned or pissed, Everyone has problems and that’s crystal clear, [Verse 3] I feel like I’m loosing touch with reality, I feel like a dead body that was ditched, I got problems but I don’t snitch, I’m slowly driving to a void of insanity, All this vice for vanity, Bitches cut me off casually and savagely, Happily and rapidly, They act like Satan, but have faith in Christianity, They post on their Instagram lavishly, Acting like the world revolves around them, And that they control gravity, I pray for no more toxic mentalities, And brutality, R.I.P Mrs King that was a tragedy, She would always looked out for me, Every week she’d always smoke over an ounce of weed, We were poor, We couldn’t afford gasoline, or vassaline, We could only afford battery, acids and, I didn’t want no more of that shit, please, Like Dom Torreto, I would die for my family, I’m still learning about this fantasy called life, It’s actually a calamity, People say they will support me but abscently, Every day I’m in a galaxy of agony, People don’t think with rationality, discriminate over nationally, Even though we have the same anatomy, Pattern please, I was bullied in all my academies, But I still get up on my own two feet, Sometimes I question people’s humanity, That’s seen as normality, I wished there was more peace on this planet, I’ll spit till’ my lungs are out of capacity , [Outro 1] I’m so thankful for the people I have in my life, They mean everything to me, Even if we’re on bad terms I’ll still stick up for my friends and family,
