[Verse 1: Grime male MC, fast bars, British accent] Tuesday, half five, and the lorry's beepin' back Hi-vis on, gloves on, rubbish in a black sack I know every road in the borough by the smell Know who's on a diet, who's drinkin', who's not well Number nine's got pizza boxes stacked up to the sky Number twelve binned a wedding dress, don't ask me why I don't read your post, bruv, but I see what you bin I can tell you who is leavin' and who's movin' in [Hook: Grime male MC, full force, square-wave bass] I know what you threw away Tie the bag and leave it by the gate You can lie to the street and the press all day But I know what you threw away [Verse 2: Grime male MC, colder, skippy snare] Councillor Harrington, gravel drive and a gate On the telly sayin' bin men are a drain on the rates Wants to sack the whole crew and sell the round to a firm Owned by his golf mate, watch how quick the people learn Monday night he's on a stage with a smile and a pen Sayin' private's more efficient than the council men Tuesday mornin' at his gate and his green box is stacked Six bottles of champagne and a letter ripped in half [Bridge: Grime male MC, low and slow, icy lead] I don't read your post, but it fell in my glove Thank you for your business, from your partners, with love Twenty grand a year if the vote goes through And a box at the football and a holiday too Signed with a smiley in the councillor's hand Folded in the champagne box, now ain't that grand [Hook: Grime male MC, full force, square-wave bass] I know what you threw away Tie the bag and leave it by the gate You can lie to the street and the press all day But I know what you threw away [Verse 3: Grime male MC, reload, the beat rewinds and the verse restarts] Thursday night, council meetin', and the gallery's packed Me and the crew in hi-vis sittin' all along the back Harrington's at the mic doin' figures on a chart So I stand up with the letter and I read it from the start Every word, every number, every kiss in the ink Whole room goes quiet, you could hear the councillor think Friday mornin' he resigned and the round is still ours And I still lift his bin at six, I'm a man of my hours [Final Hook: Grime male MC, full force, square-wave bass] I know what you threw away Tie the bag and leave it by the gate You can lie to the street and the press all day But I know what you threw away [End]
