True Story..
When I was born I was bang on time, 1.25 in the morning
Doctor said that everything was fine
It all started with convulsions
I burst my eardrum when I was one
I had infections and my temperature was high
I was two when I got given some shoes
Werent my mums fault she was trying to protect me
But pretty soon them outfits would turn into a wardrobe
Cause no one wants a naked baby walking round the house
I was three when I took a piece of tracing paper and began to copy things from off the T.V
I got cracked my head open, getting dizzy playing with my brother
In the back garden in the bungalow on Beven Road
When I was four I learnt the word more
More means more, more meant more misbehaving
More mischief and more cheeky
More messing about with more tantrums and more swear words
Five years old, I'm a saint playing with paint trying to make sense of this world
Had my first crush on the girl next door
And stinging nettles, I should have put two and two together
At six, i'm told don't swallow pips, eating weetabix and believing in magic tricks
Church of England school taught us all about heaven
Hell they drummed it into us quicker than we turned seven
When I was eight, I was staying up late
Looking at the stars and waiting for sun break
When I was nine, I started getting out of line
Cause I discovered sugar was buzzing like all the time
When I was ten, I was spitting phlegm
Playing with my marbles, losing all my friends
Then I turned eleven, nothing really happened
Then I turned twelve, still nothing really happened
Got to thirteen and turned real pervy
Fancied my French teacher, thoughts got dirty
Fourteen I was being very, very naughty
Fifteen I was banging fit bean, bunning sick green
Sixteen got nicked, seventeen, eighteen done the same sh**
Got my licence to drive and my first whip
Nineteen, got whipped by my first chick
Twenty came, real soon I was Twenty One
That's a pretty special age for almost anyone
Everyone who's been there know's what it's like
Old enough to do it all but still very young
Twenty two still following the one dream
Some growing pure green forward some green
Me and Pringle on the mic, Tang, Jonny K
Twenty three, Summer holiday the club scene
Twenty four that was mentioned on first beat
Linking up with above Devino every Sunday
Plug the mic in and record it on a mini disc
Twenty five made our very first mix tape
Twenty six, spitting raw getting booked abroad
Hooked up with Dubbledge lips to the floor
Quit my job started making music full time
Living long ting on dented they want more
Whats more I met Rocksta and Big Cobes
Twenty seven, Armageddon for your ear lobes
Twenty eight, man I thought that I was heavy weight
Man I had to switch up the rhyme come twenty nine
Counted down in weekends 'til your thirty
Thirty one, should be still young and perky
Thirty two, I might have a little midlife
Thirty three, I'll probably grow my own percy
Thirty four, f** it move outta London
Thirty five, somewhere out in the country
Thirty six, on some chicken and a goat sh**
Growing my own vegetables
Thirty seven, fully self sustainable like no-ones going hungry
Thirty eight, nine, forty, still living naughty
Clean the rain water with osmosis
The toaster is hooked up to a generator with a magnet so it don't need electricity
Don't believe him? He's done a lot of reading
He's fifty years old now his hairs all receding
And he's got a lot of kick in him
He's no spring chicken but he's living off the grid and the feds ain't nicking him
And he'll treat you like a sister or brother
Cause he knows that one good turn deserves another
He's sixty years old and his ears are still growing
And he's talking all s**y like Mr. Lover Lover
Word to your mother
Til an old bugger pushing seventy with no demons
No regrets, look he's smiling
He remembers all them good times but he's gotta go cause he's got stuff to do