Verse 1)
I was raised on a council estate, cold nights, no sleep,
Mum juggling bills while the telly stayed cheap,
Kettle on boil, condensation on the pane,
Sirens in the distance like a backing track to pain.
Grey skies hanging heavy over postcodes divided,
Dreams getting boxed like the trainers we admired in,
But I kept grafting, pen scratching on the pad,
Turned stress into bars, now the struggle don’t look bad.
Bus pass buzzing, late runs on the 25,
Headphones in, plotting how to stay alive,
Mandem chatting big but they’re stuck in the same place,
I’m tryna own property, not just a nameplate.
See, I learnt quick, life ain’t fair or polite,
It’s a queue round the corner and a long winter night,
But I stood ten toes in my creps, stayed proud,
Now I speak for the silent, make the ends shout loud.
(Hook)
We rise from the concrete, crown on our dome,
Built from the ground up, bricks of our own,
Through the rain and the doubt, yeah we carved our throne,
It’s a long way from the block but we made it home.
Hands in the air if you’re chasing that dream,
From the estates to the charts, know what I mean?
No silver spoon, just a heart full of steam,
We’re kings and queens of the grit and the grime scene.
(Verse 2)
I’ve seen mates get lost to the roads and the hype,
Quick cash schemes turn a wrong into a right,
Blue lights flash, now a mum’s gotta cry,
Another young king doing time just to get by.
It’s deeper than trainers and the latest drop,
It’s food bank lines and the corners we stop,
Politicians chatting but they don’t see the flats,
Don’t hear the echo of the bats and the rats.
Still I hustle honest, got a nine-to-five grind,
Then I spit till midnight with a fire in my mind,
Studio’s a refuge, mic’s my release,
Turn trauma into rhythm, let the chaos find peace.
I rep Union Jack stitched into my skin,
But my roots run deeper than the place that I’m in,
Multicultural slang in the way that I flow,
Bit of patois twist when I’m stealing the show.
(Hook)
We rise from the con
