[Verse 1: Giggs]

Let's take it back to the nice times

That's too far, let's take it back to the knife fights

Let's take it back to the flats

I was so young witnessing cats on a crack pipe

Let's take it back to the breadbin

Bare crumbs in the spot where the bread's been

Or take it back to my dead skin

Look at the scar from when I bled for my bredrin

Let's take it back to the nightmares

Or take it back to the shed tears

Back to the ends where, skengs flare

All love ends here

Niggas hear your business and it spreads fear

Let's take it back to a rock sale

Let's take it back to the block's hell

Back to a rotten hell

Back to when my son had no daddy in his world

[Chorus: Giggs + Blade Brown]

Backed out the strap on him

Back to the trap again

Smashed out a pack again

Cash in my stack again

Backed out the strap on him

Back to the trap again

Smashed out a pack again

Cash in my stack again

[Verse 2: Blade Brown]

11 o'clock, and half of the night's gone

I picked up a fiver, nearly half of the white's gone

I stay dedicated to the grind

You can say that my food line's quite strong

It's suttin' like a pizza shop

What you want, cro, yay, buj, or a piece of rock?

I send my delivery boy

We've got them bars too, we deliver them toys

I reminisce and take it back to the zone

When we was on the buses moving prats for their phones

You wouldn't believe the levels we would take it to

Just to get our hands on a brand new 82

Let me take it back to the knife wars

A little further, let's take it back to the five draws

Taking you back to my roots

These rappers love to lie, let's go back to the truth

[Chorus: Giggs + Blade Brown]

Backed out the strap on him

Back to the trap again

Smashed out a pack again

Cash in my stack again

Backed out the strap on him

Back to the trap again

Smashed out a pack again

Cash in my stack again

[Verse 3: Giggs + Blade Brown]

Let's take it back to the sweet shop

Brixton riot, took it back to them weak cops

Let's take it back to them three shots

The little profit that my back pocket eats off

Let's take it back to the British nights

Back to the fist fights

I swear I had the sickest right

Let's take it back to the soccer days

Way back before the mandem were shotting yay

Let's take it back to the mopeds

Back to the strip selling smack to the dopeheads

Let's take it back to the cro Z's

Take it a little further, take it back to the old heads

Let's take it back to the workouts

Punk weren't working we got crack on the curb now

Straps on the firm now, the Mac's on its third round

Fuck around and get clapped when you turn 'round