| Cos when I see em I didn’t rap
|
| (What you mean you didn’t storm?)
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| You know that, I did dip but weren’t about to dive before I’m pro, black
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| I believe ya, now watch the heat we bring fever
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| (Remember rap attack?) I used to mack and sport beaver
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| With the backing
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| And more puff than the magic dragon
|
| (Why the spliff look large?)
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| Because we put the whole bag in!
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| I remember there was a slag in my old days of blaggin'
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| Enough man’d get but we don’t ban a cheque
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| So we’d skip, find some honey dips and we’d wop
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| At the night spots, cos that shit jump in '86
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| '85 '84 or whenever
|
| I remember Mandy she used to like leather
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| (Then freak to beat, freak) long before acid
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| When I used to ride a scooter with the Honda bike massive
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| And when we go to Tokyo they go, «How is life in London?»
|
| And all the sexy Yardy girls are always, «How is life in London?»
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| And the weed man in Amsterdam say, «How is life in London?»
|
| (And what you tell them?)
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| Boy, I want you listen the way I strung em I tell em about the rallies
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| And the ballies on the manor
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| Who roll thick and quick to flip like Bruce Banner
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| Check my grammar
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| The girls in Japan love the slang
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| And the ones in Manhattan they like the chattin' so it’s easy sprattin'
|
| I remember Burberrys and Acme scooter jackets
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| Forgot to pay tax in the shack I used to smash it With the ratchet
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| We used to playfight in the sunshine
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| And laugh at the suckers getting stung on the frontline
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| I used to do the jockey moves to The Blackstones
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| Getting flat in the days of Farah slacks and beaver hats
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| A young yute coming up through puberty
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| Wasn’t known for microphone and then boning was still new to me Used to clock the sweet tings on Oxford Street
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| And Kings Road when I’d shop to meet skins to ring, y’know
|
| And in Japan they’d say I talk like Damien
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| The Yanks said I sound Australian, but hear me now
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| The Chinese girls ask me, «How is life in London?»
|
| And in New York the talk is always, «How is life in London?»
|
| And all my honeys in Harare ask me, «How is life in London?»
|
| (And what you tell 'em?)
|
| I tell 'em as a yute I used to stun 'em
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| And I used to be in love with that hun Carolina
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| Her daddy was from Jamaica and her mum come from China
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| She was shocking, so nuff man was jockeying to grind her
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| But she stuck with me, even though I three-timed her
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| As a yute I was a railer used to jack the cheats of London
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| (And now we chat)
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| I got more flavour than a pack of cheese and onion
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| I stunned em In Japan a black man nice always
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| I wouldn’t back a cracker so I couldn’t sprat in Norway
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| As a yute I spread the skins and found there’s cherries in the middle
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| If I liked the wiggle, I call her Eliza Doolittle
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| Cos by jove I think she’s got it And if she’s got it I’ma get it cos I want to get into it I used to wanna get intimate
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| They said I couldn’t now I can and yes I know I can, can’t I honey?
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| The way I’m running tings is real funny
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| As a little whippersnapper it was, «Pooni or money,» y’know
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| All the girls in Queens ask me, «How is life in London?»
|
| Seen. |
| In the Phillippines they ask me, «How is life in London?»
|
| And all my Spanish bredruns ask me, «How is life in London?»
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| Chat. |
| All at once I’ve got them going, «How is life in London?» |