Dedicated to (Light Intro)

Ooooosh sounds dope Yea bro sounds dope Yea It’s dedicated to Check Yea [Verse 1: Tom Scott] It’s dedicated to all the artists who struggling Through the hardship and punishment From the heart for the love of it It’s motivated by all they partners who stuck with them And help them pick it up again when they were thinking fuck it then It’s been inspired by all the marvellous mothers and all the fatherless Troublesome broken bastards that bum off them It’s for the hustlers scabbing off of the government Wandering in the street playing cricket with the rubbish bin It’s for the lonely nerd rolling herb on his broken turntable That he mixes beats on that no one's heard It’s for the bony bird spitting spoken word blowing dough on phony fur Rocking headphones that only work in one side For the unsigned drunk guy who never let the funk die Working like he’s done by (hard) It’s for the Sheila with the bung eye And too much pride to let her son see his mum cry (real) It’s for the has beens who had dreams The fuck ups and crack fiends The drop outs and drag queens It’s for the last kid picked The first picked on The one they laugh at Opposite from a sitcom It’s for the fat kid The misfit rat kid The lipstick black chick that no one ever sat with Dirt broke brat kid that never really had shit Rat back scab eating noodles out the packet It’s dedicated to the skater kids chucking rocks Taggers cutting locks Stoners huffing ogs Fuck the cops and the rugby jocks Fuck my boss and the goodie goodie prefects sucking cocks For the fellas that I sit up in detention with and anyone that’s Ever had their name up on the attendance list It’s for every kid that ever thought of ending it And every piss poor bum living on a benefit [Hook] This one goes out This one goes goes goes out to you (it’s dedicated to) This one goes out this this one goes goes out to you (it’s dedicated to) This one goes out this this one goes goes out to you (it’s dedicated to) (turntable scratching) [Verse 2: Tom Scott] This for the open arms the prisoners holding bars Watching life rolling past faster than stolen cars For fiends trying find a fix for their broken hearts Rolling grass while they wash their hands of time toke their chance For the stoners laughs that we shared over Nas Full blast on my arse sitting in my bro’s garage Going halves on a cask making moments last Wishing we could hold the past frozen like it’s golden stars For the days gone The days made on The cardboard we breaked on with blue puma suede's on It’s for the boom-box 2Pac played on The same one I chewed up my Snoop Dogg tape on This is for 94 When I had the highest score running new street fighter with the double fire ball This for the change that I spent on a giant jaw Breaker and the pocket money that I used to buy the Source It’s for the rap fanatics The Illmatic addicts Racking stacks of classic wax and baggy jackets Backpackers on the train tracks tagging backwards From the back of Mathematics to the back of paddy wagons This for when I rapped the plastic of fantastic And when I first heard fat lip on labcabin That magic I felt when I sat in my bomb that I boom saw them play a list of Cadillacs to This for back then the back-seat dirt I did Permanent scars are left on hearts of birds I hit It’s for the bridge burning with the first herb I lit For my worst hurt I turn to the best verse I spit It’s for the world turning as well all turn to shit Predetermined ill return it to it no alternative Getting high killing time like murderers This is life peace to the cell-mates I serve it with This is dedicated to (you) This is dedicated to (you) This is dedicated to (you) This is dedicated to (you) This one goes goes goes out to you