[Intro:] [Ad-libs:] “Yeh fam… road ting… real badman…” Bruv I’m out here, cold nights, big coat from Primark, init. Man’s dangerous… [pause] …nah for real though. --- [Verse 1:] Unidentified badman, slid through Tesco car park late night, Shoreditch vibe but I’m lost, took the bus ‘cause I can’t drive right. Burner phone? Nah bruv, I got a Nokia, battery died mid-fight. Tried to reload, no credit — man still shouting “Oi fam, it’s on sight!” Got surgical with a butter knife, Incision on the chicken thigh. Talked like a wolf on Snapchat, But in real life, pigeons fly. Camouflage jacket, blade in the lining? Nah, just a Greggs pasty hiding. Fog rolled in, thought it was danger — Turns out bruv, it was my vape cloud rising. --- [Chorus:] Encrypted steps, man lost the map, [Ad-libs:] “Bruv where we at?!” No trace, no breath, but I’m wheezing, fam. [Ad-libs:] “Asthma pump, init.” Borough don’t speak, but my mum shouts loud, [Ad-libs:] “Get home now!” echo through the crowd. Blade took flight — in my head, not real, Just daydreams when I’m munchin’ a meal. --- [Verse 2:] Unacknowledged by the feds, thank God, ‘Cause I wrote my name on the wall with a marker. Old heads whisper like ravens in packs — Nah, they just laughed when I slipped on lager. Every alley got a footprint coded, Mine got Crocs, man’s overloaded. Try parade through postcodes hard, But I’m more like folklore told in bars. Instrumental in the downfall? Barely — tripped over my own Air Force sole. Weight of the blade in my palm enthralls? Nah bruv, it’s a fork from a meal deal roll. Civilian? Product of trauma? More like mum said “clean your room proper.” Disappear in the mist like Sicilian dons — But the mist was steam from a broken kettle, fam, I was gone. --- [Outro:] [Ad-libs:] “Real roadman ting, yeh? Serious guy, trust me…” Man vanished in the greys… Uber cancelled, had to walk halfway. Sky won’t chill, pavement cold, But my mum still text: “Bring milk from the store.” Badman? Nah… just a lost lad with a Tesco bag and a dream too mad.
