Trouble - Kano

The young people have begun the rebellion, refusing to work

They have received very little support from other sections of the population

As a consequence of which, they must find money by these means

We say we are against those means

Not because we are moralists, not because we are religious freaks

But precisely because mugging involves loss of life and liberty

And the continuing attack upon that section of the black community

Police brutality, prison brutality, a whole wastage of human creativity

That is why we’re against it

Politician, hush don’t make a sound

Been oppressin' us couple centuries now

And these gunshots never reach your town

It’s never on top when you leave your house

But when we go servants, we might run into some beef or somethin'

Rambo, tuck into the jeans or somethin'

But the beef, please drop it, 'cause it don’t make money

All our mothers worry when we touch the road

'Cause they know it’s touch-and-go

Whether we’re comin' home

And either that’s for shit that could happen to us

Or the shit we might do if you violate the code

It’s turnin' over new leaf times

Moschino jeans full of peace signs

Post code war, and that’s the thing now

Young bucks beefin' over street signs

You ever seen a mother’s tears run down Gucci glasses?

That imagery will hit you deep and cut through the hard shit

A hood potential not reached due to gun barkin'

Is bad business for the ends, man, I’m done talkin'

It’s all fun keepin' score when it’s one-nuffin'

Till loved ones get nuppied then cited nine nights

Any beef can be squashed if hands could be shaken

Any hand could be shaken when the blood dries

I guess that’s not a thug line

But Camden Town to Plaistow, that’s where the thugs die

Where the slugs fly, then the doves fly

And if you say you like beef, then you thugs lyin'

These are my words to us, no tongue-tyin'

If you stay up writhin' till the sun’s risin'

You’re just tryna get one, or get bun tryin'

Then we ain’t on the same side

Of this Sterling lining

Politician, us don’t make a-

Trouble, trouble, I don’t need no trouble

Trouble, we don’t want no trouble

I know some Young’uns that would beef on the main road

Violate the clique and then the K go

They will off a bruddah on my say so

But when they give 'em thirty, could I look Mum in the face though?

Concrete roses, they really grow, she can see my whole set

Don’t watch the Rolex, just watch the progress

From mopeds, coke heads and the old Ghetts

15 with a dream, 20 with a gold disk

21, second crib before I got my own whip

27, 28 and 9 was my lowest

30, re-upped again, 32, more checks

So why would I throw away life for some jokers?

Hopeless, ain’t blocks with no Lopez

Opps in the focus, I know the roads, yes

But when the goal’s bread it makes no sense

Less condolences and more congratulations

Brought a smile to my face, I heard that Sammy’s trading

Kate just had a baby, D’s a uncle ain’t he?

Just got off the phone with Shane, he’s invested major gravy

Ghetts ain’t looked back since we blessed them stages

Now man are steppin' on planes without bredren aiding

Still conflicted 'cause man a bust gone on Netflix

But I show you both sides of the fence, watch out for splinters

Rats and sinners, gangsters, killers with straps and ringers

Taxin' figures, your stash was dinner, ugh

My only obligation is give inspiration

This the winners table, and here’s your invitation

No sparklers over here and all the women taken

We just pop bubbles, pour doubles, we want one no trouble

Whine till gyal, we want no trouble

Just spend three grand, we want no trouble

Four more bottles, we want no trouble

Don’t mean we’re scared of nobody

Life just too short for the bullshit man

Politician, hush don’t make a sound

Been oppressin' us couple centuries now

And these gunshots never reach your town

It’s never on top when you leave your house

But when we go servants, we might run into some beef or somethin'

Rambo, tuck into the jeans or somethin'

But the beef, please drop it, 'cause it don’t make money

Policeman, hush, don’t make sound

They lockin' ghetto youths up, centuries now

And these gunshots never reach your town

It’s never on top when you leave your house

But when we go servants, we might run into some beef or somethin'

Rambo, tuck into the jeans or somethin'

But the beef, please drop it, 'cause it don’t make money