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letra de all got our runnins - the streets

[verse 1]
again, i step out my yard
head swings ’round, clocks my landlord
start chippin’ up the road ’cause i owe him three weeks dough
the ship’s sinkin’, telly’s on the blink
and in the pub, it’s one beer to last all evening
later on, chips for feedin’
when the quids are down, try sneak in a bottle of brandy
’round bouncers into the ministry of sound
scored, moffat, back indoors with a profit
’cause they do say that havin’ no money forces one
to make the right choices on life each day
if you can’t pay, you can’t play
success hides a mult-tude of sins
but i ain’t successful and my piggy bank’s still in the bin
been there since i was a kid
goin ’round in circles, not being careful, but say
i get paid on friday, can’t wait to live life my way

[chorus]
’cause on the streets, i’m just a geezer
i gotta make ends meet, yeah
gotta do what i need to
sh-t, we all got our runnins now
on the streets, i’m just a geezer
gotta make ends meet, yeah
gotta do what i need to
sh-t, we all got our runnins now
on the streets, i’m just a geezer
gotta make ends meet, yeah
gotta do what i need to
sh-t, we all got our runnins now
on the streets, i’m just a geezer
gotta make ends meet, yeah
gotta do what i need to
sh-t, we all got our runnins now

[verse 2]
brut pocket, i’m back in the bur-ssic seat again
after spending sixty pound last week on beers with friends
brought it all on myself, see, granted
now i’m scorin’ draw for everyone to get my next spliff sorted
hang ’round mum’s house to get smothered
got no tins in the cupboard this week
hold on to your seat ’cause it’s all gone a bit pete
“live for the moment”, said he; wrong!
downin’ beers out of my tree, now the moment’s p-ssed
the cash is a distant memory
you know things are bleak when you’re tellin’ the birds
you asked out last week that things are busy
when really, you’ve got no dough in the piggy
two days after payday’s clocked
and it’s back at the black dog
stuffin’ them socks into pool table pockets

[verse 3]
i’m skint, got no moolah
need to get some colour in my cheeks, says mum
that’ll be my english inner-city tan
i’m skinny like a woman
need to get some punan through the door
“please sir, can i have some more?”
oi, oi, lend me a tenner so i can go to the chip shop
twenty-four hour garage and then for a quick top
this time opting for the re-ssuringly cheap option
when the quids are down, my schott hoodies, my ball gown
my essential accessory is my bad day frown, ’cause
life in the third-cl-ss carriage can be evil
when your only ticket to freedom is a permit to travel
so, uncle shiner, you best go get the spade and dig me a grave
’cause i can’t pay the rent but i got a 109-pound pair o’ trainers on

[outro]
la, la, la
and then this geezer turned ’round to me and said
“what are you doing, you tw-t?” and i was like
“what the f-ck is this? what are you saying, you div?”
oi, that’s it

- the streets

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