West London - Reveal

West London post code, E Road my local/

Stone cold, blow ‘Dro on road, fuck Po-Po/

Ain’t nothing they can tell us in our zones bro/

‘Cos from the paint on the pavements/

To estate railings we own road/

Fuck the Metropolitan police/

Fuck every single undercover and every officer on the beat/

Always watch me when I’m bopping on the street/

But the streets are our property/

So we tell the feds that THEY lack authority/

It’s not just me fam, my whole zones the same/

From Lisson Green to E Road/

We know the game/

Like we wrote it/

Street author, Poisonous Poet/

Go against the West and end up in the canal where the boats is/

I really ain’t trying to boast or promote this/

‘But I spit reality, so it’s best that you know that this ain’t just show biz/

West London full of hood dwellers/

Middle-East mafia, White gangsters and Black Goodfellas/

Me, I’m Gully and Irani/

But I’m having talks with next man to expand to a Gully Army/

And I ain’t quitting ‘til the ends say/

Revs held it up for West, like the bridge under the Westway/

Yeah, it’s just a West London street thing/

Yeah, it’s a Gully and Irani thing/

Yeah, these streets keep me breathing/

West London’s where I’m from/

And I’m not leaving

So what’s the moral of the story/

Heard you sent bredders to bottle and bore me/

But I survived with nothing more than four scuffed knuckles and torn jeans/

Ready for war?

You’re not ready for war G/

Trust me, Iprobably been through more Fuckery than you when I was Fourteen/

Certain bredders can;t hack it when there’s static on their radar/

Me I don’t panic, I just remain calm/

Keep my eyes open, I know exactly where the snakes are/

Keep my mind focused, I know exactly who the fakes are/

Certain man don’t know how deep it is/

And roll with no allegiances/

But I can smell the beef as if the meat was fresh/

I know exactly where I stand and exactly who my peoples is/

Airtight like shrink wrapped plastic, thats how we keep the shit/

Now peep the shit, your click lack leadership/

A bunch of pricks talking that click clack heater shit/

‘Til they seen what them big bad heaters did/

Shit fam, you changed your feelings quick, recognize who you dealing with/

Gully army is something different/

We represent the third world living in Britain/

Not trying to fit in/

We Irani, Iraqi, Maghrebi, Messri and Lobnany/

Felestiny, Somali, Nigerian, Kurdistani/

Eritrean, Albani, Bengali and Pakistani/

I plot with a couple Cockneys and spar with a couple Yardies/

We bringing a hundred armed teens/

We bringing a Gully Army/