Ill Manors

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1

(Woman on TV)

I had to, I had to put my foot down

'and make my kids do well in school.

'And, and I-I did my best with mine,

'so a lot of these mothers and fathers

has to be blamed for this as well!

'A lot of mother and father! Listen...

'Don't blame the children.

As adults, we should-

'The mother the father, the big people!'

'But, you know, sometimes it cannot be

a good time at all, you know,

'for people who grow up in foster care.

'And, you know, things can happen

to them and they can have a bad time,

'and they can end up, like, you know,

not in a good place, like, mentally,

'and a lot of the time physically,

'so it is a definite bonus to have,

like, a strong family background.

'I'm not saying

it's the be all and end all...'

(Plan B) 'Are you sifting comfortably?

'Well, put your seat belts on

cos you're in for a harrowing ride

'cos this is iLL Manors

where dark sh*t goes on at night.

'I am the narrator,

the voice that guides the blind,

'follow it not with ears but your mind

'and allow me to take you

back and forth through time

'to explain the significance of things

you may think are insignificant now.

'But won't... further down the line.'

( Drum and bass)

I be that lyrical narrator

Social commentator

Socially commentatin'

What I say is verbatim

Verbal stipulator, oral illustrator

Orally illustrating what I'm stipulatin'

Drugs rule everything around me

Thugs making money

My manor manor's ill, y'all, ill, y'all

Pushers on my block shottin' rocks

This is real, y'all

B*tches sucking c*cks for them rocks

Yeah, they're real low

Prozzies on the corner

With their f***in' high heels on

Pick 'em up, drop 'em off

Yeah, they ride real strong

Crack addicts looking for other addicts

To steal from

Walkin' round wondering

Where they get their next meal from

Cokeheads on their reds

Sniffing up their wages

Dealers on speed dial

Suckin' all their papers

Still on the same number

That they've had for f***in' ages

SIM card so old the logo's f***ing faded

But turn it over

And you see the gold nugget

Reflecting off the light

That shines down above it

Unregistered chip you gotta love it

Pay-as-you-go so the feds don't bug it

Twitter for the streets

If you want tweets

Eleven little digits

And a blower's all you need

Tell me what's your poison

They've got everything from weed

Up to methamphetamine

Everybody, follow me

And join up to their antisocial network

Database of smack, coke

And crack-smoking experts

Without they'd go out of business

They'd no longer get work

So anybody trying to f*** with it

Is gonna get hurt

Lyrical narrator

Social commentator

Socially commentatin'

What I say is verbatim

Verbal stipulator, oral illustrator

Orally illustrating

what we stipulating

- What's happenin', bruv?

- You got that?

- Yeah?

- You enjoy that, yeah?

F***in' fat c*nt.

F***in' waddle, waddle, waddle, waddle.

Who the f*** is this?

- You all right, guys?

- Yeah.

- You got anything?

- Nah. What are you talkin' about?

- Couple of tickets or anything?

- Don't know what you're talking about, bruv.

I'm Tony's mate.

Nah. I don't know Tony, mate.

I don't know no Tony.

Oi!

(Police siren blares)

Oh, for f***'s...

Aaron! Come on, bruv!

Quick!

(Shouting)

What the f***!

(Police siren blares)

(Police siren blares)

(Door slams shut)

(Doors slamming shut)

(snores)

(Phone vibrates)

(Breathes heavily)

(Puffs)

(Grunting)

You love it, don't ya?

(Groans)

(Groans)

(Knock on the door)

What the... Who the f*** is that?

What's goin' on?

(Sighs)

Oh, f***'s sake!

It's 7.30 in the f***in' morning, man!

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