blakstone - Darkdayz - Place 2 B

AWAW Reporting

A life of broken dreams. Inside your stressing but fear stops you confessing, your in a mess and he's pressing, another punch and a lesson in keeping it hush, hush. Don't want nobody guessing the reason your face is puffed. Concealing it's a test and why you lying to yourself "it ain't abuse as such"? A couple of days if you "don't touch it wont hurt much"? And no-one knows that you're getting a kicking. Take what you're given. You're driven by the decision division's a worse condition? Reminisce about the old days when you first met him, used to listen to that Cold Play CD all day. Now you scared of footsteps in your hallway. The Dramas are real when they ain't in roll play! The drinks just a faze you reckon?

He's out for days on end on benders, pub crawls, bars, they beckon him. Binge beating, week out and week in, your thinking your imperfections may be the cause of his interjections. And while his kicking your face in know your place and brace yourself, your health's a secondary case. First comes the free thought, freedom of will, the freedom to drink, the freedom to beat, the freedom to thrill. The freedoms are ill, still that's your policy, I pity you silly, freedom committee made a prison of your city. Exploiting you at best, the rest avoiding you, address the mess destroying you.

AR (DPZ) Reporting

Yo I know this dude named D he used to roll wit me, growing up together trying to make doe with me. We both used to spit so he did shows with me,a lot hard headed than a kid supposed to be.

As time progressed the minds get stressed, see him chilling on the staircase smoking on cess. Must confess times was hard moms was tripping. Slowly started slipping, drug dealing and shots peeling. Graffiti like wallpaper on the wall, even your homeboys praying for your downfall sounds raw. Now he be supplying the fiends. Incoming cash flow moneymaking machines. Turn around found himself stuck up by his own team, all for the love of the cream. Back on the scene fresh outta jail look where it got him, lying on the floor coz they shot him.

HH Reporting

Yeah you know Ottman they called him the pimp. He had a silver M3 always walked with a limp. He thought he was hot, thought his whole game was on lock. He thought nothing could ever touch him even the cops. So he'll go up West on a Friday night. Thinking everything is jiggy and the mood is right. You know jam up in the rave and have a party like. Impressing chicks with drinks with expensive price. Astaghfirullah brother commits sin after sin. Thinks he don't need Allah to look after him. So instead of worshipping he's being a slave to his whims. Watch how everything will switch and turn all grim.

Boom, one night after unlawful sex, he came back to his crib looking kinda vexed. Cause the protection split and he don't want kids yet. Guess what he does smoke weed the usual flex.Two weeks on he She was pregnant, he thought deep like a well. What's he gonna do now how's he gonna bail from this drama that is getting stuck to him like a tail. So two days later he goes to the clinic trying to sort out the abortion but he feels kind of timid. The nurse goes don't worry its not too harmful but before she does anything she needs a blood sample. Blood sample taken Ottman leaves the hospital. Couple days later he thought he cleared the obstacle. One week on sisters round him like maids, he gets a phone call from the doctor who told him he had aids.

WG Reporting

Its Friday night tower hamlet is buzzing. Young Mo hits the street with his mate and cousin looking for weed to feed his throat with smoke. Flat broke but crime pays he thought and jacked folks. So now he 's got dough on road he links up with cats from way back whose hearts have turned cold. Still Mo flashes a bill looking for weights, but Cats trade smack and wanna get paid. So young Mo is forced they pull a blade and say evaluate your course upgrade or else. His mates afraid push him of the fence. Mind made he takes the kiss of death. He's stressed wondering how his fate came to this, staggers home alone stoned quarter to six. Mums praying fajr he gives his a miss feeling nice and chris pondering consequence. Next day Mo' wakes feeling an itch a crave missing the kiss from a pipe to his whims a slave. And although he fights a good fight mo caves and ignites a spark to blaze his life away. Burning his soul on the foil that he lights each day. Stealing Jewellery from his mum to pay. Mums cries and finds her sons a junkie thief. Sad denied & ashamed he packs and leaves. Roaming the streets in grief wrapped in cardboard sheets Mo begs and pleads whilst inside he bleeds. Remembering the days when he cotched with peeps and family, remembering Eid and sweets the irony. Now on the floor he sleeps; cold subway stairs; alleyways and streets. Selling himself to every single perv he meets to feed the need of every single perv in heat. So next time you see mo you'll what I mean, that Deen is all you need to fight your inner demons.