[Hook - Don Jaga]
This the story of a street life
This is what the streets like
When it gets dark, and the guns bark
Police are enemy they want our
Cocaina pura, filhos duma [bad word] Still I rise through the fire
My desire to get higher is higher
Than these snitches and these liars
Lord Knows

[Verse 1]
Street life, live that, ain't no denying it
We get dough then flip that, fire sticks
Get low and sticks clap, rider [bad word] No lying kid, know who you're riding with
If Don gets caught, and then turns into a lying snitch
If I get caught, the lord knows I'm denying it
The lord knows I'm a lying [bad word] Like "Nah judge, it weren't me, I didn't ride on him"
And if that don't work, I'mma ride my ting
I'mma ride my bird, like I was cycling
Fight through the fire, like a fireman
Let the ting light, and leave him hearing sirens
And that's all because he tried the ting
Like Koke's known, let me try and get stripes from him [bad word] boy, want to test the eye
Get shot and want to testify

[Hook - Don Jaga]
This the story of a street life
This is what the streets like
When it gets dark, and the guns bark
Police are enemy they want our
Cocaina pura, filhos duma [bad word] Still I rise through the fire
My desire to get higher is higher
Than these snitches and these liars
Lord Knows

[Verse 2]
The lord knows that I'm suffering
I reach for the sky, like I wish I could cuddle him
I pray to stop hustling, but I can't until my Mummy stop [bad word] Life had [bad word] risks
Fight with a gun, no fists
Product of my block, so just know who you're [bad word] with [bad word] around these blocks, ever since I was a [bad word] kid
And I let it pop... I'm certified in my [bad word] bits
I've heard the lies, you [bad word] keep chatting [bad word] The burner lights, you [bad word] ain't clapping sticks
We murder guys, if they try to turn their back on bridge
Early night, catch him while he's with his [bad word] From the most hated ends in North West
Remorseless, bang guns, be cautious
The rawest, concrete blocks of Stonebridge
Might be knocked down but we still have to hold this

[Hook - Don Jaga]
This the story of a street life
This is what the streets like
When it gets dark, and the guns bark
Police are enemy they want our
Cocaina pura, filhos duma [bad word] Still I rise through the fire
My desire to get higher is higher
Than these snitches and these liars
Lord Knows
Lord Knows