Hard Bastards - Roots Manuva

The pain is in the planning, from the man on the mission

Position of the glories got from a basic

Sense of overcoming all the hurt and all the setbacks

Dirty little sweat backs things on the neck backs

Of them not knowing how stupid it will get

A whisper in the street ain’t never a secret

Nothing is for keeps when you’re trying or you’re lying

Through the second and third hand strands of illusions

Fed to the honest hard-working types

Who’s there willing to take that chance on the mic

To write a little bar and show some regard

For the ordinary hero, here and everywhere

Busy till we drop debt, machine has truly got them

The price ain’t always measured in the money

Everybody, anybody, wanna be somebody

And we all truly are as long as we see through the lies

See through the lights and realise the might That

Just might appear from the most unlikely places

Hidden in the sacred space between the thought

Hard bars from the hard arse bastards

It’s not me but I know a few bastards

And most broke cunts are all true bastards

And most rich cunts are even more bastards

Basking in the glory, of getting to the life

Life in the fast lane might seem nice

Got a little Ps, got a little rice

You cross your heart and hope to stay alive

You cross your heart and hope to stay alive

You may not know

When you arrive on that road

That will take you

Inside of the eye of time

You may not know

When you arrive on that road

That will take you

To the inside of the eye of time, the eye of time

Things are getting bleak, we ain’t seen the worst

Kids are having kids, kids that will never work

Granddad never worked, daddy never worked now

Three generation don’t give a shit about work

They all got aspirations but nothing they suppose to

The tv and the magazine it keeps it kinda hopeful

That one day, in some way, they’ll get a lucky break

In the meantime, that plant food provides a cheap escape

The government don’t trust them and keeps them all in place With cheap food and

cheap booze that keeps them out of shape

The underclass, the lowly class with no damn togetherness

The union that sold them out and sold them togetherness

Will look the other way, as the first becomes the third world

There’s one world not three worlds, nothing free in the free market

Legitimate targets sitting suffocating for the

Classless society and the endless enslavement

Hard bars from the hard arse bastards

It’s not me but I know a few bastards

And most broke cunts are all true bastards

And most rich cunts are even more bastards

Basking in the glory, of getting to the life

Life in the fast lane might seem nice

Got a little Ps, got a little rice

You cross your heart and hope to stay alive

You cross your heart and hope to stay alive

You may not know

When you arrive on that road

That will take you

Inside of the eye of time

You may not know

When you arrive on that road

That will take you

To the inside of the eye of time, the eye of time