£1 Chicken

Living life right in the city, love this place tho times be gritty.
So many crims, too many victim.
Too many shops sellin one pound chicken.

Bradford city, Bradford grime.
Walking streets means spending time, with all people many equal
Many lost brothers with an urban shine

Shine be shady lost lights for days, walking through the valley of a permanent haze.
Clouds drifting from suits really smell like tango.
Different sweet smell from the hoods and mans though

Bimmer engine screaming after dark, racin through the city past city park.
Young soldier feelin it, fearless in rage.
Tomorrow’s lost soul, T&A front page

Problem shared be a problem split, problem child might end up slit.
Hand to arm wrist open out so to rest laid,
Another father gone repeat to fade, repeat to fade

Or take the pain out with chems and beer.
Sink another cheap whisky bottle here.
Or if that buzz don’t hop, Pay a visit to another magic phone shop

Hear the pain take it in so feelin it,
Pray to God that He might be healin it.
See the good in brothers light on be flickin
But there’s still too many shops selling one pound chicken