Times Change

How it was ain't how it is
How it is ain't how it will be
When anyone asks how I've been
I tell em ask how I will be

(Story time)

School days they never paid her no attention
All the boys used to think about
Was taking home her best friend
Remember trocadero had us all going West End?
She was the weirdo
The lame with no protection
So they used to call her rugged
And she called her older bruddas
At night she couldn't sleep
She just hid below the covers
She was a tomboy with potential
In a class full of cruel kids
All alone she suffered
But the years passed by and
The glasses became contacts
Her hair's relaxed and the braces disappeared
She used to battle with her pass out
Couldn't pass, she made combat
She's got it back now, her face is everywhere
Shop windows and adverts
Now it's like she's never been
Insulted by a man's words
Nobody thought that she'd become a model
When her hair was in a bobble
She had bottles thrown at her times change
People change times change
People change

School days she was the one
That all the boys chased
Just another little boy tryna beat
Before his voice breaks
Valentines day, there ain't a choice made
Way too many options, she can't avoid hate
Now there's rumours going round the school
They're calling her a slag
They say she's going out with Paul
She ain't cool with that
Cause Paul ain't growing outta all
The things children have
He wrote a little poem on the
Wall where the water's at
The years passed by and
Her reputation was ruined
Telling every man she meets they're
The only man she beats
Swearing on her life by elevating
What's she doing?
Now Paul's become the man to please
Sport's got the man his P
She a funky buddha, celebrity pursuing
She walks in casually
Haunting all the athletes
Now she's on the same celebrity she knew when
She was a secondary girl
But he remembers very well

The model, the baller, the chicken head
All went the same school, coincidence
Different situations supported by
These instruments (life)
Hate, love and too much
Attention caused the difference
The model was the victim
(chicken head was loved)
And the baller was a victim
(of this chick he said he loved)
Mate, I'm just painting the picture
(where's my brush?)
Only two used the gift they was given
One never once opened a present up
She just opened her legs and
Hoping to to get a cuff
From bruddas that get money
But no, she never does
I suppose it's never funny
When these hoes have a child
That won't respect their mummy
Back to the other two
One night they crossed paths
In the lobby of the W, a hot glance
Turned into exchanging numbers
Who, ever thought that they
Would get together? Well, I never