I take a look around my streets
There are no more coppers on the beat,
Druggies go and rob down town
Then take their gains to the dealers for a trade,
From teenage kids still at school
To those who are desperate and are fooled,
To believe that it will ease their lives
But then violence hits in the form of knives,
And so many kids then lose their fucking life,
All because of the postcode or county lines
And it is not just black on black crime,
Many who die or are doing time
Are white kids and men because drugs don’t mind,
The colour or class of the victims on my street
Or the mother’s and the families left behind to keep.
fauxcroft 
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