Maybe there are other people like us,
scraping £2.50 to get the night bus.
Requiring time,
but never a sign of love lost.

So when I wake up,
I look for the nearest shake up.
Wiping off your girlfriends make up,
because nothing will ever stop us.
Sending penetrating shivers,
an ecstasy like gold rush.

Back to sipping Hennessey,
making the girls blush but there ain’t no fuss,
‘coz the girls lost coming at a big cost,
as I plan the beginning the end and sub-plot.
Daym this girls hot but she don’t like ***,
if I don’t deliver man get shot.
Left 6ft under to rot, while my babies crying in her cot,
something the government planned,
straight to the source of another blood clot.

Unbelievable feeling’s that came from us,
but nothing was going to stop that bus
so don’t cause a fuss, head up and believe in trust.
If you could see me now, then you’d understand
two bags short of tenner, another pocket with ten grand.
Thinking about street corners, the place where it started,
going way back now, before my mother departed.
Family distraught, the horizon broken hearted.

Taking into account, the past and what’s it done,
I must face the consequences and what’s ahead to come.
It isn’t going to be fun, but I can’t turn and run,
believe in fate so the future doesn’t appear glum.
Then we call a peace treaty, and lay down our gun.