Yeah… step inside the block… You smell it before you see it. Two sides — left and right — One full of mouths, the other full of knives… But the rats? The rats own it all. I walk in the left side stairwell, hear that laugh, Three women leaned over the rail with a glass, White wine swayin’, eyes rollin’ wide, Talkin’ ‘bout who went with who last night. “Some bitches too jealous, scared to share a friend,” One says like her voice never gonna end, Feel like a battery, she say, runnin’ low, But her face light up when the drama flow. They don’t even pause when the rats run past, Tail in the bin and nose in the trash, Even the vermin know to keep their head down, ‘Cause them mouths bite harder than any hound. Rats in the block — runnin’ day and night, Through your dirty plates and your half-smoked light, Two sides beef but they both still see, Same damn rats in the same concrete. Step to the right side — quiet, till they talk, Words hit harder than a pitbull walk, They say the truth like a slap in the face, Don’t care if it burn, that’s just their place. One man sittin’ in the doorway rollin’, Look me in the eye like the truth he’s holdin’, Says, “You can drink with the left ‘til your teeth turn red, But they’ll sell your soul for a loaf of bread.” Meanwhile, rat up in the hallway pipe, Chewin’ through wires like it’s Friday night, You hear the scratch from the ceiling to floor, Same rodent army in every door Rats in the block — runnin’ day and night, Through your dirty plates and your half-smoked light, Two sides beef but they both still see, Same damn rats in the same concrete. Scratch… scratch… scratch… Not your neighbour — they too loud for that, Trap set last week, they still came back, Same damn story in this old block flat. Left side neighbour see me at the shop, Ask who I was with, like she can’t just stop, Few glasses deep and her face all red, Words spill fast like she lost her head. But I tell her straight — “Sis, you don’t gotta worry, If I’m talkin’ to the neighbour, don’t get in a flurry, Your shit thoughts only come when you’re tipsy tight, And tomorrow you’ll act like it’s all alright.” Rats don’t judge — they just take their share, Crawl in your cupboards, sleep under your chair, From the left to the right, they own this ground, Same old block where the plague runs round. Rats in the block — runnin’ day and night, Through your dirty plates and your half-smoked light, Two sides beef but they both still see, Same damn rats in the same concrete. Two sides… one fight… Same plague every night… Glamis Court… still standin’… But the rats… still winnin’.
