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're against it Politician, hush don't make a sound Been oppressin' 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 servants, we might run into some beef or somethin' Rambo, tuck 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 comin' 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 turnin' over new leaf times Moschino jeans full of peace signs Post code war, and that's the thing now Young bucks beefin' over street signs You ever seen a mother's tears run down Gucci glasses? That imagery will hit you deep and cut through the hard shit A hood potential not reached due to gun barkin' Is bad business for the ends, man, I'm done talkin' It's all fun keepin' score when it's one-nuffin' Till loved ones get nuppied then cited nine nights Any beef can be squashed if hands could be shaken Any hand could be shaken when the blood dries I guess that's not a thug line But Camden Town to 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 writhin' till the sun's risin' You're just tryna get one, or get bun tryin' Then we ain't on the same side Of this Sterling lining Politician, us don't make a- Trouble, trouble, I don't need no trouble Trouble, we don't want no trouble I know some Young'uns that would beef on the main road Violate the clique and then the K go They will off a bruddah on my say so But when they give 'em thirty, could I look Mum in the face though? Concrete roses, they really grow, she can see my whole set Don't watch the Rolex, just watch the progress From mopeds, coke heads and the old Ghetts 15 with a dream, 20 with a gold disk 21, second crib before I got my own whip 27, 28 and 9 was my lowest 30, re-upped again, 32, 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 Brought a smile to my face, I heard that Sammy's trading Kate just had a baby, D's a uncle ain't he? Just got off the phone with Shane, he's invested major gravy Ghetts ain't looked back since we blessed them stages Now man are steppin' on planes without bredren aiding Still conflicted 'cause man a bust gone on Netflix But I show you both sides of the fence, watch out for splinters Rats and sinners, gangsters, killers with straps and ringers Taxin' figures, your stash was dinner, ugh My only obligation is give inspiration This the winners table, and here's your invitation No sparklers over here and all the women taken We just pop bubbles, pour doubles, we want one no trouble Whine till 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 just too short for the bullshit man Politician, hush don't make a sound Been oppressin' 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 servants, we might run into some beef or somethin' Rambo, tuck into the jeans or somethin' But the beef, please drop it, 'cause it don't make money Policeman, hush, don't make sound They lockin' ghetto youths up, centuries now And these gunshots never reach your town It's never on top when you leave your house But when we go servants, we might run into some beef or somethin' Rambo, tuck into the jeans or somethin' But the beef, please drop it, 'cause it don't make money