Chorus: This is for the one, who lies in on a Sunday Rave so hard miss work on a Monday For the thug whose living life grungy Beef on the street but he thinks life’s lovely. For the chick whose chasing her dreams Never happy with her face or waist in the jeans For the ghetto chick blazing the green For the mothers with kids at the age of eighteen. Navigator: Young thug, hold up, I’ll address the issue I ain’t hear to battle or rattle your cage or dis you But you know when I grab the mic to spit dude I WILL spit flames and they may just lick you I may just hit you right where it hurts Cos the light exposes a life full of dirt You might be a flirt and hit with the chicks But God sees you stare at her butt licking your lips You need to fix up quickly So what? Your 306 is nifty I don’t care what brae’s are shifty Stop fighting, warfare is sickly Don’t wanna see you spreading your beef Heart heavy, weighed down like lead in your feet God loves you man you can head for relief Or be another bluh bluh bluh, dead in the street. Chorus Sammy G: This is for the yout who knows about lyrics, writes two pages in fifteen minutes/ Bear gimmicks, none of its tight he just mimic’s/ Other rappers straight down to the image/ Never seen a gun still he says that he buss one/ Diamond encrustin’ his rhymes when he spits them bars/ Says “I’ve come from ghetto, life used to be hard”/ But there aint nothin’ ghetto about his mum’s yard!/ She pays the Bills, his inputs minimal/ You can’t have a Bentley without a provisional/ Seriously, why so many toots wanna be criminals?/ Aint nothin’ pretty bout prison, really!/ Clearly they don’t see what keepin’ it real is/ Pear kids wanna live reckless and fearless/ Hear this, for real it’s not what life’s like/ Why not represent Christ and live life Christ like? Chorus Phonetix This one’s for the rude boys sitting in the back of a Nova Every 10 minutes and you’re getting pulled over White middle class but you talk like a Rasta Rolling on hubcaps your mom bought from Asda Smoke weed and you say you’re a dealer Buy all your stuff from a homeless geezer Sell a little bit to your friend for a reefer Saving up your cash for a trip to Ibiza You’ve got a camera phone you like to show Can’t afford a contract though you’re on pay as you go Filmed a beating so you think you’re the man But you’re so stupid you happy slapped your own Nan Please bro I think its time you grew up Before the crown court labels you another screw up Bring the best raps your filthy little mind can stew up (Yeah) I bring the gospel and merk your whole crew up Chorus