Street composers do nothing for me
the trash trash talking
urban grunge and meaningless rap
mindless grimes of the decaying urbanites
celebrating the joys of mediocrity
the juvenile delinquents dissing conventions
yet give them the dollars
and they're cased in a mansion in Hampstead
and the brothers are now reeking punters
the hypocrisy of street life
is same as the hypocrisy of Beverley Hills or Rodeo Drive
punks dissing punks as its always been
there's no substitute for class
rap your nonsense for all you're worth
but at least get paid for it
aint nothing if you aint getting nothing
what's the point of schmucks talking trash
when you remain just trash