Warm Up Sessions

[Intro]
Lyricist Jinn, SB.TV Warm Up Sessions
Hold tight, all my family, you know who you are
Yo, People's Army, Minarmy, Black Triangle, UK
Yo
Tell 'em, yo

[Beat 1]
Yo, I'm reaching out to you, Lord, I know you hear me
I hope you're near me, I can feel the lack of love
I'm stuck behind these castle walls, I'm trying to grab a dove
And I can see the light but can't reach it, I've had enough
Slip on the wrong turf, and they'll grip hammers
It's sticky living with the bandits and the thugs
How'd you expect me to listen to these self snitch rappers
Last time I sat in court, I didn't stand up for the judge, nah
And I've been runnin' round the block wishing for transitions
Missin' my fam, listen, I'm driven by ambition
This is a damn mission, this gift isn't man-given
Still, I've been up all week cutting grease till my hands stiffen
I'm back in this room and I'm writing again
I thought I quit, I guess I only speak my mind within pen
Unfortunate kid, still I thank Allah at night in my bed
And look at all these children talking how they lighting the sken
Nah...
You ain't never let the 'ting blow
And even if you did, I bet you never caught a body
Sick of all these YouTube fucks, NNS syndrome
Stay true to who you are, brotha, start talkin' properly
And what you know about six siblings and a mum to feed?
And system cut the benefits, now I'm the one for peas
And now they wanna send my family back to Egypt
Already feeling seasick, gotta get them peas quick
Now would you pay attention if I had some more views?
Bitches in the videos, or chilling in a Porsche coupe?
The realest in the game, fuck a glistening chain
Most of us grew in poverty, difficult to relate
On top of that, the pops is doing life without remand
I got to keep my calm
Can't ride with that shit on
It's hard to progress in the future with a damaged past
And still, I try to count my blessings and I thank Allah
See 'nuff of these yutes got no reason to be out on hustle
And still they jump on tracks and try talkin' 'bout struggle
But they just struggle to go clubbin' on the weekend
And then they back in mommy's comfort when the week ends
Ha...it's kinda funny, though
Always complaining about getting snaked for the money, yo
But they won't hesitate to do the same in that position
It's just a sewage full of rats, rattin' rats for provision
When the times we were young, times were different
Sippin' liquor past the point of getting drunk
Ain't no food up in the kitchen, but my blood is full of drugs
Kind of wishing on a miracle, tryna figure how to buss
I remember listening to B.E.P., now where's the love?
I stand better chance to find it in a rhythm of a slug
We were worshippin' the lavish life, not willing to give it up
Life's a bitch, never kiss it, look at all the kids that sucked
And I wonder, would they miss me when I'm wrapped in a box?
Would they dedicate a piff spliff at the back to the blocks
Same place we kept the Smith & hidden wrapped in a sock
Would they all my recite my lyrics while they rap to the top?
Tell 'em

[BEAT 2]
Make sure you check out my other stuff on YouTube
Big up [?] for the opportunity, man
Mm, yo, tell 'em, tell 'em
Uh
Yeah
Okay
You have a take on my life, yeah, save me living in drama
They ask me why my life's messed, I answer this to karma
They never offer right help until you cause disaster
My life's hell, my brothers let the ice melt, the nines belt
Welcome to the London city, gritty blocks where crimes dwell
Snitches singing sly tales
Half the brothers hate the hood
The others trapped in tight cells
You duckin' clapped in right jaw
I'm stuck in rap till mommy's glad my rhymes sell, I'm running mad
And I can see from distance all the plastic faces
And ever since I got off meth, I've witnessed drastic changes
Bitter sick, this track in mazes
Grippin' sticks like masturbators
Hitting spliffs intact with nature
Written scripts attracting haters
Flipping bricks and stacking paper
Mission is to battle Mages
Spittin' sick, I rap [?] cages
Livin' sin for crappy wages
But I ain't giving in until I witness happy faces
Nah, I ain't giving in
Nah, I ain't giving in
Flippin' the rocks, sipping Cîroc from dawn to dawn, we out here
Chill in the blocks, hitting the dots [?] torch without fear
Dipping the cops, sit in the box, walk in and leave no comment
Gratata, gratata, talk and you'll be dishonoured
I never glamorized the crime, this is the life we live
Kid gets to hammering, surprises all that tried the ting
And Lord, forgive me, 'cause I try, we all live by sin
Please, Lord, forgive me, when my momma cries, I die within
Phone at my connect, one hour left to get to country
Cut up the pen, run up to ends, the cats are getting hungry
Two for fifteen, if they lucky then it's three for twenty
That's the deal, bag some Remy, then I chill, okay
Back on them roads again, dicing up them hoes again
Lighting up and smokin' till we choking as I hold it in
These rappers are so pretend
They ain't never blown a sken
And Lord, forgive me I ain't happy on this road to sin
Back in the booth again, keeping it presidential
Reaching is evident, while reaping the credentials
Believin' it's heaven sent, I'm a beast with the pen, I'm mental
Watch out, on the streets of the jealous friends who
Lie and cheat for the peas, easily deceived
Many nights I stayed up while they sleep on my dreams
Thinking why the game's fucked while I'm breathing the trees
They tried to disrespect, now they [?] speaking to me
It's survival of the fittest in this war zone, I was a poor bloke, now look at me, all grown
You can tell from my voice I've been cold, like a sore throat
Silent swagger with the dagger, we still saw throats
I got my own stress to worry about, the only Jesus
The rest, we crossing them out
I'm trying to change my ways, but there's blood on my hands
And I can't change my ways till there's funds in the bank, nah
I can't differentiate the angels from the demons
My heart's disintegrated, ain't got no more feelings
Even when my life's blessed, still I will not find rest
The karma still awaits our sin to get the teasing
Gratata