VERSE 1:
Sat here thinking of time's past, behind my laughs/
thinking of way back, my minds glass/
smashed in to a million fragments, like splinters/
digging in my skull, like icicles, in the coldest winters/
nothing but head aches, yeah im'a living cleshe/
but i'm telling 'em these days, you ain't fucking with me mate/
i'm ready for the apocalypses/ stacking bricks trying to build a better future, but waiting for Police to come along and try topple it/
But we ain't fucking stopping it, it's all we fucking got to give/
life's a fucking risk, and we've all fucking got to live/
most probably don't understand, were i'm coming from/
but i'm rapping for that one man, that's forever staying strong/
even though deep down his crushed, feeling like a shell/
walking through this world with a smile, whilst he's living in hell/
And them Girls that stay strong, supporting their man up in jail/
and man up in a cell, still praying for bail/
VERSE 2:
I feel, traces of love, and remember them days/
before the, evil in man, came and took me away/
before the, hurt and pain, the betrayal, and the shame/
had me devastating lives, like i'm hijacking planes/
an innocent child, born up in this filth/
before the corruption in the City, had that innocence killed/
but still, it's done now, we all grew up/
with scars and hearts, looking broke, and all bruised up/
that's why i'm looking back, feeling sorry for them youngers/
Behind that stoned look in their eyes, you see a hunger/
or a vague look, un-educated, and I ain't talking books/
or you see the fear in their eyes, 'cos life has got them shook/
'Cos you can work hard, but all you'll ever do is pay rent/
council tax, electric, gas, food, wages spent/
get pissed on the weekend, Monday do it all again/
and in the end, die with debts, we all spend/
too much of our lives surviving, what about living?/
and I ain't talking getting messy with the powder, in the kitchen/
ask a Cancer patient on his death bed, how much his life's worth/
6 pound an hour, is the last thing he thinks, as his mind turns/
VERSE 3:
I could go political, but what's the fucking point/
does anyone really listen, all I ever hear is noise/
I ain't got the answers, like God and Politicians/
but i'd rather put my faith in religion, at least God listens/
fuck you're Gucci fashion, and your Grey Goose/
and fuck your road rap, I don't rap, I play a beats, and i say the truth/
can't help each other, unless we help our selves/
but when we help ourselves, we're labeled selfish, and we sell ourselves/
cheap, real cheap, but life is a blessing/
yeah at times it's depressing, but why bother stressing/
over shit, out of our control/
and money ain't shit, but a credit note for stolen gold, you'll never own/
but real gold is having a good heart, and clean soul/
having friends and family, you can always hold close/
but me, like most, I take it for granted/
and now I'm nearly at the end, I wish i'd never started/
Kraze Kingston's Studio Sessions. I feature on the song Conservatives (Get The Fuck Out) and gave a preview from my 3rd and final CD in TELL IT LIKE IT IS. FREE DOWNLOADSSS AGER