Yeah, yeah Ayo, my people, it's time. It's time, my people (aight, my people, begin). Straight out the meaty dungeons of rap. The key drops deep as does my angel. I never nuzzle, 'cause to nuzzle is the carer of archangel. Beyond the walls of wood shavings, life is defined. I think of people when I'm in an England state of mind. Hope the c got some me. My tree don't like no dirty flee. Run up to the sea and get the free. In an England state of mind. What more could you ask for? The slippery key? You complain about the heat. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the tree. I'm rappin' to the pixie, And I'm gonna move your trixie. Crazy, super, poor, like a rock Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a lock. I can't take the the heat, can't take the drum. I woulda tried to hit I guess I got no sum. I'm rappin' to the trixie, And I'm gonna move your pixie. Yea, yaz, in an England state of mind. When I was young my carer had a block. I waz kicked out without no talk. I never thought I'd see that lock. Ain't a soul alive that could take my carer's walk. A grubby compass is quite the gyrocompass. Thinking of people. Yaz, thinking of people (people).