(Where you from?)nI'm from a place were the streets are filled with snakes that smile in your face as they plot to do you wrong.n(Where you from?)nI'm from a town where the mans will take you down if they see you making pounds and flashing it around like you the donn('Cause where I'm from?)nThey don't give a fuck if you got talent, only got love for your bank balance like, Give me the wong!n(That's where I'm from)nDon't ever get it twisted. Yeah I'm really, really from the ends now what the fuck you want?nnI'm walking down the street, past the coppers on the beatnPast the shotters blotting weednClear for everyone to see, but no-one gives a D,n'Cause this is everyday life.nFuck the policenIt's a ghetto state of mind,n'Cept where I'm living I can't see no ghetto, this ain't America, it's England, where we live ain't nothing special.nYou can take anywhere and call it a ghetto,nSame way you make cyanide, same way you make amaretto.nHip-hop's in the street, now were all busting *ecko;n50 Cent's on MTV, now it's cool to carry metalnObjects,nNow the object is to kill.nHow can you value life when you're so close to death? Stainless steel,nHow's it make you feel,nBlud, holding that buckey?nKnowledge is power, guns just make you feel lucky.nIt's fuckry the way these yout' man like to go on, busting shots in the crowd when there's a show on, they're just putting a show on.nReal gangsters stay underground like non-Phixion, they don't fire blanks at Yanks like when Nas played at Brixton.nThrill seeking dickheads just doing it for kicks andnHear a next man speak their name from his lips andnGive a guy props for licking shots from a gun like if they fired one at him the fucking prick wouldn't run. It's like they'renPraising these yout's for acting so dumb and it's no excuse,nMost of us are fatherless sons.nn(Where you from?)nI'm from a place were the streets are filled with snakes that smile in your face as they plot to do you wrong.n(Where you from?)nI'm from a town where the mans will take you down if they see you making pounds and flashing it around like you the donn('Cause where I'm from?)nThey don't give a fuck if you got talent, only got love for your bank balance like, Give me the wong!n(That's where I'm from)nDon't ever get it twisted. Yeah I'm really, really from the ends now what the fuck you want?nnYo, where you from?nAre you really from the ends? Well that depends on what the fuck you mean by ends, if you south of the Thames, then nah, I ain't from them ends.nI'm from these ends, they call it the Eastend, my friend,nAnd round here you gotta watch your back 'cause everyone's bent,nBare man who think they're rough just 'cause they're shotting the pent,nHating on Plan B 'cause they don't know me as Ben.nYout's as young as ten walking round thinking they're men.nThey're under the influence, and I ain't even talking 'bout drugs,nI'm talking bout why the fuck they're walking like thugs.nThey're in love with the idea of being a gangster, romantic idealisms producing hot jism like a wanker.nWhat ever happened to good old fashioned street fighting like Blanka?nQueensbury Rules, mate, that's how I vent anger,nVent my anger,nKnock out your teeth if you bring me beef,nLeave you looking like a chief.nnWhere you from blud, where you from?nWhat's your name?n(Where you from?)nPlan B? Yeah I've heard of you, still.nYeah yeah, you're fucked up, you're fucked up.n('Cause where I'm from?)nYeah, yeah, that's cool though.n(Thats' where I'm from)nGive me your phone, anyway.nGive me your phone,nI don't give a shit,nGive me your phone, blud.nDon't make me jibb you up.nYou see this blade and I'll cut your throatn