Soul Food
Somewhere in East London
He's up late tryna be something
Grave shift saving and training
For a spaceship to phase upwards
Dreams often, peels off and
Speeds off into retirement
Pitstop the grind don't end

In East London, I see struggling
Empty fridge clean oven
Hunger meant we keep hustling
Stomach rumbling The Jungles
Swallowing, The Ops are following him

Watching him tussling with
Smuggling something Russian in
That's coming with a double-digit punishment
The trouble is nothing to what he's up against
Living good with the opposite
What's a consequence?
Losing your consciousness
DMT helped me empty
The illusion of confidence
Cut loose The Metropolis
Big Jay’s back for The Sovereign
Word to my onyx ring
Burst bubbles when I pop up in them offices
Bottles at the bar on compliments
Bottomless pit throwing rocks at Jin
Suffering from obnoxiousness
I often win getting off is oxygen
Abolishing your offering
Fuck reality I’m augmenting all of it
Tormenting the tournament
Torching unfortunate subordinates
Getting money with The Colonists
What's writer's block to a columnist?
You're boring him if Rekorderlig
Is was what you call a drink
I want opus’ I'm going in for opulence
Christopher Wallace shit
Kick in the door again
In Life After Death ‘till
I’m Born Again to an abortionist
Life weren't a blessing
But I guess I'm feeling fortunate

“The only road out the hood is road rap and selling food”

Guess I’m here to put a fork in it…
Take caution kids
There's more to this thing called life
Clicks online
If being black’s current can I squash
It with the brothers it was still on sight?
No umin and arring
I'm all in and charging
Fast in and starving
Harvester Toby and Carving
Stepping up to the plate with tub
Like Sunday dinner at Aunty’s
Mum, I know you're up there laughing
While I'm down here sparring
Meditating at the deep end of a shark pit
Resonating through the ages
Escaping the cages I'm basked in
The daftest bastard. Parkinson
Until the craft Kickstarted
I'm pacemaking targets for the brave and disheartened
Looking for a friendly face with a wave to embark on
They tried kicking me when I was down
I took it and smiled
Pushed through the trials
Like King James bussed case
From a Crook to The Crown
Ain't picked up the good book in a while
But I keep it on file
Big man ting the devil's a child, feral and wild
I've matured the rebel inside
It's corporate, like a boss it can't be denied
I was on my knees asking for signs
A brain and a spine
The pain to subside
Too big for my boots
Getting scaled down to size
Hostel to hostel for 6 months
On 2 weeks of supplies
I should be Duke of Edinburgh
Fuck the award I want a bed at Buckingham
Harry ducked out so I'm cutting in
Tell Charlie to button it
Mr. Williams is running tings
UK to Wakanda
I'm taking it that far, raising the tax bar
The facts are I've come for the BAFTAs
It’s like having a light bulb moment
Listening to Bangra
Across the road from Shangri la
La la la la la