The Streets, Loud Mouth - Backseat Barz lyrics

Nein, Danke

Walk into the sea with clothes on
See what I'm fucking smoking is so long
Talking all the jokes with the poking
Once wanted to inspire debate
Dissent and war to enlighten
Outrage and provoke and clog
Up the blogosphere
But like the artist's impression
Of the guilty verdict
I wear the watch of a pilot and fly
In the black Range Rover
Hanging back til it's
Over in the back watching Boardwalk Empire
But, it's a fact not phony
That the tracks not pony
I'm attacked with desire and go higher
Throw everything in on an unknowing whim
Before showing our cards to the stars
Like the walking wounded, they walk all moody
Mawkish dudes who are awkward or boring
It's not a bad vibe when
Your glad to be alive
For every different opinion is out there
Gently listening or bent on shouting
Very much doubting or concurring sternly
The eternal whirring like the
World we turn on
Boxes of photos in the loft that look off
Cough in the detritus before
Stopping for a moment
At a picture of a loved one
Sit and think memories that fill me gently
Nearly i have no position to bargain
So I don't listen to arguing i do what I do
Value all my allies
Just in an alley by a bar's a bargain nearly
Walk into the sea with clothes on
See what I'm fucking smoking is so long
Talking all the jokes with the poking

In a white room with a nice plume
Night fumes i'm quite new to this
Light a candle fight the angle
Bought a new car and then pranged it
Used to play a dudes heart
Haven't got a clue heart

Bob Hoskin's boss posture
Upset he lost the Oscar
For Mona Lisa, lonely geezer
When you're hot they want ya
Like you're a cock they block ya
Knocked down, ginger hustle, whisk the
Game, you're at the door
Yeah they gotta knock ya
I am not a doctor, but I know what sick is
Flows and lyrics, oh so vivid
Like a vocal image
We go in with 12 ends yeah we overdid it
I went in so raw I should go to clinic
To go get checked, Axel Foley of sex
I'm too bad, life drags polio legs
But, I never block heads, I can only respect
The hard grind above us has suffered
When the goal is success
Loudmouth, my cerebral
Thoughts be kind of peaceful
More be nice than evil
For the rights of people
More be guys deceitful
Talk with lies to cheat you
Cross double acts
Morecambe Wise and leave you
To heed my warning talking
Of perceived threats
Let them kill joy like Kilroy
That would be dead i don't smoke at all
It's known to all I'm not a weed head
It does nothing for me- that's what she said
Crude innuendo, I might laugh
On my mood it depends though, I write bars
While you dudes play Nintendo, or Xbox
Guess what the answer is? Yes what
With shadows I chess box and pianos I
Watch them played out I stay
Loud until my breath stops
Some say I've got a filthy mouth, so? F off
Until I clean up my act as well as my desktop
Just let me get the stress that
Is on my chest off
Cos my head's a mess like Joleon Lescott
Some police are pricks only on let's stop
Some g’s still bitch only on
I prefer the latter, but I return to ladders
But because of problems
I've been hurt by adders
Snakes in the grass, won't refer to rappers'
Names in my bars, I'm alert to matters
Getting out of hand like slippery soap
Trying to keep a grip, no prison cheap jokes
Cos art's a reflection, can mirror these
Lyrically I'm visibly killing it though
With Skinner in tow
Mean feat feeling the flow
I'm an East London artist and
I'm still in the Stow (Waltham, Waltham)