Ill Manors Page #2

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Especially any time Janet

Came around to f***

Get her fix while her kid, Chris

Waited around

'A nine-year-old boy

Who was healthy and loud

Considering when she was pregnant

She was smoking the brown

She was lucky that he wasn't born

Disabled or Down's.

Still, when you're too loud

You get a clap round your head

Kirby ain't his dad

But he does what he says

Stays downstairs

in the cellar with Trev

While Kirby's upstairs

Giving Janet her meds

At least that's what they told Chris

Still he ain't that dumb

He knows Kirby's upstairs

Bangin' his mum

While he's left in the basement

With some racist c*nt

Who's been waiting round for ever

For the motherfuckin' day to come

What an environment to raise a kid

Round crack dealers' houses

And racist pricks

Trevor looted the place

As well as maiming Chris

Left a permanent scar on his face

The same as his

With a razor blade

Yeah, it takes the piss

Whether you're prejudiced or not

Man, he's just a kid

But that's what Trevor done

No one ever saw him after that

Six years pass now

Kirby's cookin' up the crack

It's the new drug

Everybody's going crazy for

1989 the year Chris

started selling draw

Picking up from Kirby

Scar there beneath his eye

You'd think that after everything

That's happened he would treat him right

Not par him off

With just another ounce of weed

Cos a quarter of the bag

Is a bunch of f***in' seeds

Hundreds of 'em

And twigs the size of f***in' trees

But if he ever moaned

He'd get a slap across his cheek

1990 is the year that really took its toll

Cos that's the year his mother Janet

Took an overdose of heroin and died

God rest her tortured soul

Now he's left to fend for himself

All by his own

It's 1995

Now that he's older

Stress weighs on his shoulders

Heavy as bolders

But he hides it from his olders

He's been living on the far side

Since he was a yoot

But the way he lives now is a far cry

From the way he did in the past

Cos he's made his way out

From sellin' ounces to bars of weed

Out in the streets

Where people do their nasty deeds

He sees they're making money

So he wants a larger piece...

(Shouts) You f***in' little c*nt!

What do you think you're doing? Hey?

That's our bread and butter,

that is!

Take that. Here you are.

Go on. F*** off!

It's all there.

And I've canned it an' all.

So, where was you last night?

I was groaning my f***in' tits off!

Hurry up. He's getting the gear.

(Shouting)

(Kirby) Get off me!

You're under arrest for the possession

of class-A drugs.

You do not have to say anything,

but it may...

Come on, Kirbs. Time to go.

Kirby!

(Reggae)

(Child sobs)

(Knocks on the door)

(Man 2) Who's that?

(Door squeaks)

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