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