Back in the days, I lived in Vine Court off Vine Street/ in the littered streets of Braybrook, the 3019/ a weatherboard home painted in off whites and if you stood and looked straight at it, you could tell it slanted to the right/ my house was crowded so I’m outside all the time, my neighbours kids are looking at me through the cracks of their venetian blinds/ and so one day I call one out to ride his bike, his clothes reeked of cigarette smoke/ a skinny kid with blue eyes/ and every now-and-then he’d sneak a smoke from his house/ id take it round the corner, light it, try blow rings from my mouth/ so while we chill I’d ask him why his mother never had doubts about her pack of cigarettes and she may have miscount/ you see, his mother drank a lot/ she’d get pissed and start ranting and raving out on the streets, embarrassing her kids/ and she’d be fighting with their old man till I’d get knocks at the door/ can I sleep over?/ I’d look at him and say sure.

(Hook) x2
And it’s like parents just aint worth it no more/ I could hear the noises of our neighbours scream, while we’re sleeping/ and you could tell me man I’d keep a secret/ I’ll keep it closer than my heart beats inside me living off vine street.

(Cuts)
“drugs by the selection”/”some use pipes, others use injections”

And as the bus pulls up, I hop off and run into my man/ my boy Plazma, got his name from squirting cans/ I got along with him coz being the same fan of hip hop meant overseeing a man’s tan/ and he invites me to change plans/ it’s all good brother lets kick back, spin records and play tracks/ smoke some weed from the same sack or even have a scratch/ but those belt turntables make the wax lag/ I stop and think of the situation at hand when Plaz tells me that the house got raided by cops in a dibbie van/ his grandmother, oblivious to the scam, was scared stuck in a trance like sand caught in a hour glass/ just a suburb in the skirts of the city/ step outside the house, look across the street and feel pity/ when at the same time I see the neighbour out with a ciggy/ 10 year old getting high in the fumes of graffiti.

(Hook) x2

(Cuts)
“drugs by the selection”/”some use pipes, others use injections”/ “time was nothing to us, we were just kids”.