Nottingham - home of Robin Hood, crack gangs and wraps of smack - fully represented in its f***ed up reality.
stee
hhd
hiphop directory
stan blade
stan blayde
Story behind the song
I originally laid down a (wack) version of this on an onyx beat. So here it is, re-written, re-spitten, and re-laced. I envisage AT LEAST another 2 remixes to this on different beats and one of these versions will end up on the Stan Blade EP (if the fucking thing ever gets finished).
Lyrics
i'm from a place where cop gets shot, shops get robbed
n mad hip-hop gets dropped
yo - its weed, heroin, smack wraps n crack gangs,
its bag snatchers, back attackers n gats man
so i maintain regardless, i'm stayin heartless
cos round here it aint hard to start shit
yo i'm irate, smokin til my eyes just dilate
the crime rate's connected to my, my mind state
I represent Nottingham, the home of the outlaw
there's lots of um, outdoors, throwin the southpaw
as for the cops, they just sit in they rides
n drive round quick while the crime figures - climb
they might stop to strike a pose in the streets
the illusion of law, come on you know the police
how to be positive when your pad is a composite
of drugs, tunes, guns, n the habit for fuckers poppin shit
bitches is nervous, n twitchin they curtains
n one thing's for certain, this city aint workin
Robin Hoodie's turned bad, attackin the streets
ayo, traded his bow for wraps of smack n a piece
bitches is nervous, n twitchin they curtains
n one thing's for certain, this city aint workin
Robin Hoodie's turned bad, attackin the streets
ayo, traded his bow for wraps of smack n a piece
we gots projects, high rise blocks, n estates
where you can get shot for droppin mistakes
watch ya step, cos notts aint stoppin for shit
yo I represent my poor self n rob from the rich
i dont pack a bow n arrow, i spit with a pipe
only steppin at night and stay hid from the light
cos i'm allergic to sunrays n days can be trife
only thing i really like is to blaze up the mic
n das TROOF, notts got nuttin but bad news
n mad crews, rob you for ya cash n shoes
shoot you in the back on a dare, or a fair one
and yo i'm not talkin bout air guns or snare drums
people get wacked here for fun
if you look at a cat wrong, prepare to run
mind ya biz, motherfucker watch for danger
n dont get seen on a block as a stranger
bitches is nervous, n twitchin they curtains
n one thing's for certain, this city aint workin
Robin Hoodie's turned bad, attackin the streets
ayo, traded his bow for wraps of smack n a piece
bitches is nervous, n twitchin they curtains
n one thing's for certain, this city aint workin
Robin Hoodie's turned bad, attackin the streets
ayo, traded his bow for wraps of smack n a piece
i'm in touch with the soul of the streets
the concrete kisses up to the holes in my sneaks
the evidence is the fact my lyrics stay relevant
i never said that i was a thug but fuck benevolence
how many notts kids have to get shot
before the fuckin crack labs stop, enough
I defy order by the law of the barrel
or the blade of the knife stored in your apparel
they say the globes broke, no hope, well no shit
just shut the fuck up, grow dope n smoke spliffs
but the street keeps callin, the tv's borin
even tho its heat the police will keep snorin
n ignorin the warnin's, kids caught in a paradox
a slave to the system, or a slave to the crackrocks
its a choice that keeps many cats bizzy
in the home of robin hood - any bad city
bitches is nervous, n twitchin they curtains
n one thing's for certain, this city aint workin
Robin Hoodie's turned bad, attackin the streets
ayo, traded his bow for wraps of smack n a piece
bitches is nervous, n twitchin they curtains
n one thing's for certain, this city aint workin
Robin Hoodie's turned bad, attackin the streets
ayo, traded his bow for wraps of smack n a piece