I was 15 years old, posted at the shops
Crack rock in my mouth and some pot in my socks
I swear to god, it's the life that i live
'Cos my mumma died young and my daddy wasn't sh**
So i, brought myself up, moved a couple bags
Took my life off the street and turned it into rap
It ain't that bad, being raised by the street
No food on the table so I sold d** to eat
Shops i creep, ski mask was irrelevant
Been through the system now I'm known as a felon
So who's tellin'? Man i feel for these young c*nts
Junky mums and dads, so they're forced to go and pump up
I love some, but the rest of you fake c*nts
Got a good home, you can live behind that make-up
But wake up, it's a cold, cold world
And the gutter took me in so now it's my cold world
It's all i've known, be yourself and stay strong
I wasn't raised right so all i know is how to do wrong
So watchya know? About the junkies in the laneway
They call us Serchaz 'cos we stash cash in our paint trays
But on some real sh**, I'm a part of the street
If my gutter runs deep, on my way to the range
Music can you feel this? the pain of a soldier
16 years old when i heard my first revolver
Mother'd love, from the streets 'cos they told ya
You will know the game when you get a little older
I want out, but it's a game that I'm trapped in
Forever in the streets till it's a box that I'm wrapped in