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Title: The Real Fuckries Of Life
Artist: Stylah
Label: Breaking Records
Year: 2003
Album: The Warfare EP

Last Modified: 23rd July 2003
Transcribed by: Stylah
Contact: stylahse7@hotmail.com
Artist Discography

Stylah (Serius) Serius (Stylah) Warfare part 2, the sequel Yeah this is the real London city, now the floodgates have opened they bought crack to the streets now its overdosing, young soldiers holding gats on the street, and they tackled it neat, putting more forces back on the beat, but one has gotta survive cos one is real, and one has had to shot crack round the back of Sommerfield, one has done a couple deals, with a couple dredds, sold a couple pills, and a couple o.z's of skunk, and plus i've had a couple k's in the trunk, driving straight past feds makes heart pump, blood around the body faster, so imagine the relief when you see the police just breeze past ya, i live to shot another day, i gotta stop and think, what would my mother say, if they put her son away?, Not tryina bring my parents shame, i'm tryina send them in a royal air maroc aeroplane back to the homeland, gotta make decisions now cos i'm a grown man, thats why i choose to do what i do, phone in my hand, just roaming the land looking for more cussy's, getting that raw money get yours cuzzy its all gully, Chorus x2 Its like its war on these London streets, Every wants a little suttin to eat and, from north east to south to west, every body wants to make that dough This is da real london city, at night time you hear the screams of lost souls, fiends at cross roads, its like a dream, stuck in between life and death, its fire pon da streets so when you try to eat its hard to take a righteous step, no time for breath when your chasing quids, no rights or lefts just straight to hell, as if were satans kids, and blood spills on battlefields across the city, lost youth in prostitution aint that a pity, but its a shitty world and the world revolves daily, and every day a mother gives birth to a crack baby, ervery day theres drugs in ciirculation, every day theres women in prostitution, cos satans moving swiflty, you blinded by the red-a-da-fifty, we tell it by the red-a-da-eye, your blinded by the lust for the blood-a-da-bredda-dats-shifty, looking through eyes misty, you see your life history, you see it quite vividly, your life quickly turns artound, your chaian used to make a bling sound now that shit weighs you down, as if the devil himself has his arm round your neck, when you hear gunshots in digitised sound effects, your probably in your last seconds, sorry bredrin your times up the reapers stepped in, your bodys left in a ditch, now your spirits left in the mist, and this is death where there aint no rest for the rich Chorus x2 Its like its war on these London streets, Every wants a little suttin to eat and, from north east to south to west, every body wants to make that dough (Serius) Wearing jeans that sag one yute stole a bag, knocked a lady on her back cos he fell vicxtim to crack, young thugs with stung guns raom the streets of london, looking to lash a kettle, stash the metal before the efeds come, cos this how we do, chains swinging, prada tops and gucci shoes, breddas drinking henny while chicks sippin on malibu, some fall through some get locked up like panic room, some search for the truth, some dudes behave like savage yutes, cannibals, cos they might be out to eat you, try to be the challenger and they might defaet you, breddas in evisu breeze through, golfs and polos shotting on these streets up and down like yo yos, grassings a no-no, still ducking po-po for real, gotta stay hard like volvo steal, still aint lost the gutter, still buying becks from cost-cutter, still live with my mother, its still London motherfucker Chorus x6 Its like its war on these London streets, Every wants a little suttin to eat and, from north east to south to west, every body wants to make that dough