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The Streets



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The Streets

Don't Hide Away

dont you run away, son, dont hide away

if i ever hide away its not cos im scared its cos iv got too much money
everybody swears to god they are gonna stay on their strip i stayed on mine you aint above me
the last ten years were cold and not lovely, life was ugly, hard like rugby, even if i had a big house in the country, i woudlnt stay caged up like a monkey
im newer than funky, quicker than rift to you to wanna jump me,must have thought i stayed in, when you see me on the high street and your throat gets lumpy,
and i aint getting jumpy, i just wanna piss of the ones who are grumpy, i got addictive genes like a junkie,i know you wanna say why do you hide away but im here what whose gonna touch me.

look
what a waste of time, sitting at home trying to make up rhymes, doing grime aint gonna pay the grind,cos the fans i got they dont make a dime,
i aint gonna give up my life for this, even though my 9 to 5 is a bitch, all i really want is a line to sniff but the money i make cant even buy a spliff.
im like, fuck that im tired of it, tired of being a drunk and disguising it,i cant wait for the time im rich im tired of trying to get wasted on heineken
yeah i got in to a fight again,hiding away, nah im gonna hype again, painkillers im gonna need 5 of them cos there was only one of me there was 9 of them,
if i aint getting any pies at them ill slice something in my face to put fright in them, a blade and a handful of vicodin cos i aint going home without my bike again,
i really feel bad for the 5 of them, but iv had six bikes and theyre riding them, aint like there frightening i just hit on the head and OD im alive again
so fuck your boys to back you up, cos im drunk and ill liable to smack you up, run moves and then rat you up, ill make loot while your on the inside getting batteried up
for someone thats always been acting up, you look like a chump with your hands in cuffs, so tell your boys to go suck your mums or catch me when youre sober you fucking cunts.
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dont hide away, dont you run away son,
dont hide away, dont you run away son

nobodys hiding here, hopefully my time is near, look in my eyes im a victim of life, every night i look into the sky like why im here?
you cant stand in my old kicks i aint gonna back down from the showbiz,black for the poet thing, wax gonna moat this (?)
look im after you plan,half of your gangs full of rats and roaches,so go that its not safe for the whole gear,go home for the ocean when i go clear,
hear me out, i was blinded but i see clearly now, half of the grime scene fear me really, this ice kid you could feel weary round

hmm is there something after death, or when death comes is there nothing after the comfortable last breath,lend ame a pad ill sell you a plan,
my hideaway is a ride away on the end of the line on the train, old people and trees rather than gold teeth and cold theives, oh its a fucking shame
still rolling the fucking rain, sold to the smock in the cane then sold tot he fucker on drugs with the sold sign on his brain,
still stroll on a cut and run bowl int he cold on the strut of done told ya, too many rappers in the buzz of your ears ,acting up like you acting on fears,
practically gun shit after every last tear,this is the soul in the cold, house with my spouse,get mashed to mad bashey, splash a bit about, cos the fragrance is important,
i say this to be sporting, but i think it like i drink it, its like walking what youre talking.