Plan B - Where Ya From? lyrics

Yo, where ya from?
I'm from a place where the
Streets are filled with snakes
Smile on their face as they
Plot to do you wrong where ya from?
I'm from a town where the
Man will take you down
'Til you make them pounds
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 one 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 blottin' 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
Except where I'm livin' 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 on the street
Now we all busting echo
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?
Blood, holding that bucky
Knowledge is power
Guns just make you feel lucky it's fuckery
The way these youth man like to go on
Bustin' shots in the crowd when
There's a show on
They're just putting a show on
Some 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 hear the next man speak his
Name from his lips
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 praising these youths
For acting so dumb and it's no excuse
Most of us are father less sons


Yo, where ya 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 east-end my friend
And around here you gotta watch
Your back cause everyone's bent
Bare man who think they rough just
Cause they're shot in the pen
Hating on Plan B cause they
Don't know me as Ben
Youths as young as ten walking
Around thinking they're men
They're under the influence
And I ain't even talking about drugs
I'm talking about why the fuck
They walking like thugs?
They're in love with the idea
Of being a gangster romantic idol-isms
Producing hot jizzum like a wanker
What ever happened to good 'ol
Fashioned street fighting like blanca
Queensbury Rules mate
That's how I vent my anger
Vent my anger, knock out your teeth
If you bring me beef
Leave you looking like a chief