I was bare tight in fresh, clean creps
Bare tings gwaan like this. Man’s yats
Are sick, I got bare hype for sex
Don’t want no dutty sket: wastegash.
Daggerin’ blud! With bashment crew,
On road, some mans get sparked out hard
For shotting bad tings, bunning zoot,
Dem wasteman, dutty like raasclaat
Say me, ‘raas money is too bait’,
I tell dem, ‘jam your grimy hype
Da ends will merk you hard my mate’
(some man are pussyhole on sight)
These deep tings happen like penalty
Near every day, blud, ya get me?
This sonnet is written in a dialect known as London Gangsta Slang, which is a combination of Jamaican Pattois and traditional street slang.