Welcome to Hackney,
a place where I think somebody’s been playing Jumanji.
A Manor where man are like animals,
an’ they’ll yam on you like they yam on food.
Cats with claws that’ll stab a yout’,
act bad an’ catch a slap or two.
We don’t applaud success,
all we clap are tools.
London aint cool to cruise through where the hunters pray,
Looking lunch today,
and your chains looking like fresh fruit to a hungry ape.
They’ll eat on you,
then laugh about it like Hyenas do,
so stick to breezing through,
like cheeta’s do or be a piece of food.
WHEN YOU’RE OUT HERE IN THIS JUNGLE