(Where you from?) I'm from a place were the streets are
filled with snakes that smile in your face as they plot to
do wrong. (Where you from?) I'm from a town where the mans
will take you down if they see you making pounds and
flashing it around like you the don ('Cause where I'm from?)
They don't give a fuck if you got talent, only got love for
your bank balance like, Give me the wong! (That's where
I'm from) Don't ever get it twisted. Yeah I'm really, really
from the ends now what the fuck you want? I'm walking down
the street, past the coppers on the beat Past the shotters
blotting weed Clear for everyone to see, but no-one gives a
D, 'Cause this is everyday life. Fuck the police It's a
ghetto state of mind, 'Cept where I'm living I can't see no
ghetto, this ain't America, it's England, where we live
ain't nothing special. You can take anywhere and call it a
ghetto, Same way you make cyanide, same way you make
amaretto. Hip-hop's in the street, now were all busting *eck
M; 50 Cent's on MTV, now it's cool to carry metal Objects,
Now the object is to kill. How can you value life when
you're so close to death? Stainless steel, How's it make you
feel, Blud, holding that buckey? Knowledge is power, guns
just make you feel lucky. It's fuckry the way these yout'
man like to go on, busting shots in the crowd when there's a
show on, they're just putting a show on. Real gangsters stay
underground like non-fiction, they don't fire blanks at
Yanks like when Nas played at Brixton. Thrill seeking
dickheads just doing it for kicks and Hear a next man speak
their name from his lips and Give a guy props for licking
shots from a gun like if they fired one at him the fucking
prick wouldn't run. It's like they're Praising these yout's
for acting so dumb and it's no excuse, Most of us are
fatherless sons. (Where you from?) I'm from a place were the
streets are filled with snakes that smile in your face as
they plot to do wrong. (Where you from?) I'm from a town
where the mans will take you down if they see you making
pounds and flashing it around like you the don ('Cause where
I'm from?) They don't give a fuck if you got talent, only
got love for your bank balance like, Give me the wong!
(That's where I'm from) Don't ever get it twisted. Yeah I'm
really, really from the ends now what the fuck you want? Yo,
where you from? Are you really from the ends? Well that
depends on what the fuck you mean by ends, if you south of
the Thames, then nah, I ain't from them ends. I'm from these
ends, they call it the Eastend, my friend, And round here
you gotta watch your back 'cause everyone's bent, Bare man
who think they're rough just 'cause they're shotting the
peng, Hating on Plan B 'cause they don't know me as Ben.
Yout's as young as ten walking round thinking they're men.
They're under the influence, and I ain't even talking 'bout
drugs, I'm talking bout why the fuck they're walking like
thugs. They're in love with the idea of being a gangster,
romantic idealisms producing hot jism like a wanker. What
ever happened to good old fashioned street fighting like
Blanka? Queensbury Rules, mate, that's how I vent anger,
Vent my anger, Knock out your teeth if you bring me beef,
Leave you looking like a chief. Where you from blud, where
you from? What's your name? (Where you from?) Plan B? Yeah
I've heard of you, still. Yeah yeah, you're fucked up,
you're fucked up. ('Cause where I'm from?) Yeah, yeah,
that's cool though. (That's' where I'm from) Give me your
phone, anyway. Give me your phone, I don't give a shit, Give
me your phone, blud. Don't make me jibb you up. You see this
blade and I'll cut your throat
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