Letras
Living for better days
Yeah
Yo
I wanna be a gangster rapper, but that shit weren't taught in my school
You could find me on report with the fools, I used to walk with the tools
Had the weed in my socks and support by my balls
Ya get extort for your jewels
Used to pull my teeth out and get a pound for them molars
Slits in my eyebrows, long hair down to my shoulders
Young buck around with the olders,
My teacher thought weed was the foulest of odours
Behind the bike shed is where you find me bunking off rolling up doints
Rolling with my N-Gage, happy slaps loading up points
I ain't a ponce you can pay me,
Cussin out my teacher that's a nonce on a daily
Being young you can't avoid the feeling
Sticking wet tissue to the toilet ceiling
Fuck employment seeking, exploit the weakling
Spying on the girls getting changed found enjoyment peaking
Weren't no boiler heating winter time's coming like a drought
Used to sell grets it was 50p a snout
From a giant with my buckets on strings roaming the playground
The only white yout in bandannas with my chain round
Spray realms, pellet guns, in the cafeteria with butter blades
Mass hysteria and shutter shades
Gutter rave spells fuck a GCSE
I'm in the toilet while Michelle's giving brains on her knees
Looking back at days, yeah
Living for better days, yeah
Living proof it's about what you choose to lead the way
Looking back at days, yeah
Yo
Dashing paper aeroplanes at Mr Kelly, blaming Janet and Max
Mind static never panic relax
Carry tools like mechanics when we travel in packs
Front line with a javelin the baddest of cats
Rotten sandwiches, lunch times embarrassing, facts
Oblivious I'm caught up in a bigger battle perhaps
That was the start of my troubles, 110's dark with the bubbles
Blood drawn from a scar playing knuckles
Used to carry bats like the Dodgers, graff the lockers
Trapping with the blotters, couldn't out math the scholars