ItzCraigSmith

@itzcraigsmith 19 Getatmeyeah!

Dunks (Taken with Instagram)

Treads (Taken with Instagram)

Bass (Taken with Instagram)

Adddidas (Taken with Instagram)

kmrx:

Logan Sama-JME & Newham Generals

kmrx:

Kyza- Rappertag

ryanduhhlion:

BANG!

ryanduhhlion:

BANG!

roadsoundhq:

G-Frsh feat. Krept & Konan - L.O.N.D-Boy

roadsoundhq:

Big Narstie - 100 Bars of Pain

atsharpcoupe:

Jehst - England 










We gotta stack chips, and that’s the way it is, yo.

Living in the city is turning Billy schizo-
Phrenic, it’s a blood-money epidemic,
Kids rock Akademiks but they’re not academic.
Better stop for a second, take a look around you,
Demons surround you, evil is all powerful.
Love is up against the ropes, it’s God’s downfall.
Lucifer reigns - the future remains doubtful.
The gloves are off - bare knuckle for the last round,
Listen to the war drum, hear how my heart sounds.
My fists pound the asphalt, as the living dead inhale the crack smoke.
Squeeze blood out a stone just to make cash flow - streets retarded,
The daily news is too much for the weak hearted.
Deeply depressed artistic arsonist, sparkin spliffs,
Addicts jack the pharmacist’s.
The devil lives in the Houses of Parliament,
Devil worship or rebel disarmament,
Is the main agenda for the parliamentary member.
Send in the Toxic Avenger!
Mutant anti-hero, stack de-niro,
Move with a band of bandoleros at sub-zero
Temperature - New clothes for the Emperoror,
Watch how you walk, these kids will put an end to ya.
The cross-country adventurer,
Ventin’ the pent up aggression, when I enter the session.
Adolescents hold weapons, and shut down your pantomime,
Draw heat - 9 milli degrees Fahrenheit.

England!
Where the smackheads jackin up,
Crackheads crackin up,
You’re back up or backin up?
You’ll leave with your hands cuffed,
Po-po bustin blocks, Old folk punchin clocks,
Yo it don’t fuckin stop.
Police stoppin me with the P.O.T.
Race hate is growin so their votin for the BNP.
Brits in Guantanamo, dreamin of bein free,
Fuck this country, it ain’t doin shit for me!
Look at the history books, peep the bloodshed,
Karma is coming, you’ll see the streets run red.
RedRum! That’s the way that the money’s made,
The Church of England invested in the slave-trade.
Trace it back to the bank where you put your wage,
Built on the blood of slaves and stolen sugar cane.

England!
And there’ll be toil for the royal blood,
Spillin on the soil, where they’re drillin for the oil.
Got us killin for the buck - but we don’t give a fuck.
Nobody wanna work, we just wanna live it up.
Bring a cup, fill it up,
With the blood sweat and tears too.
I got no love for these ideals you adhere to.

Dear England, please confess your sins now,
I see police tape, when I’m takin my bins out.
A dead baby got dropped down the rubbish chute,
Please don’t bum me out, cause I just bunned a zuut.
Don’t look at me funny blood, it’s the fuckin truth!
You don’t believe me, I guess it’s too much for you.
A girl got abducted, and chopped up in Catford.
Racists with ice-picks? That shit is backward.

The news is confusin - it’s all manufactured,
Pop-propoganda - political actors.
Political factions and critical factors,
Get kidnapped and sympathise with your captors.
Trapped in the capital, death before dishonour,
Troops terrorised by suicide bombers.
And I wanna vomit, cause they’re blowin up buses.
It’s rough in the streets, kids growing up cussin.
Get crushed in the rush hour.
Police have got too much power, now they move like a menace.
Ask Jean Charles De Menezes, in the heavens.
They put seven in his head and sent him back to the essence.
They got us living in fear,
You get treated like a criminal if you’re Muslim with a beard.

24 hour drinkin, I’m sippin a beer,
But some don’t know their limits, it’s a little severe.
The liquor is here, the drugs are here,
The football thugs are here, you could get mugged in here.
So plug your ear if you don’t wanna hear the screams,
From the dungeon to the Huddersfield of dreams.
I feel the heat of Big Brother’s eyes on my back,
He’s watchin how I move and the way that I act.
He’s watching what I read and the products that I buy.
My bank balance? That’s the price of the property-rise.
My political allegiance? I’m angry!
I didn’t register my Oyster Card - you can’t track me.
ID’s compulsory - they got a back door,
You’re forced to apply when you renew your passport.
It’s hardcore, but that’s life in England,
And it goes for the whole United Kingdom.

And I still got love for the place where I’m livin,
But right now they’re ain’t nothin great about Britain.

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