Where ya from? chords by Plan B

SimplifiedAm · F · Bsus4 · G

GuitarPianoUkulele

Am
F
Bsus4
G

Intro 1

Verse 1
Am 
(Where you from?)
I'm from a place were the streets
are filled with snakes
That smile in your face as they plot
to do wrong.
F 
(Where you from?)
I'm from a town where the mans will
take you down
If they see you making pounds and flashing
it around like you the don
Am 
('Cause where I'm from?)
They don't give a fuck if you got talent,
Only got love for your bank balance
like, "Give me the wrong!"
F 
(That's where I'm from)
Don't ever get it twisted.
Yeah I'm really,

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Verse 2
really from the ends now what the fuck you want?
Am 
I'm walking down the street,
past the coppers on the beat
Past the shooters blotting weed
Bsus4 
Clear for everyone to see,
F 
but no- one gives a D,
'Cause this is everyday life.
Fuck the police
Am 
It's a ghetto state of mind,
'Cept where I'm living I can't see no ghetto,
This ain't America, it's England,
where we live ain't nothing special.
F 
You can take anywhere
and call it a ghetto,
Same way you make cyanide,
Am 
same way you make amaretto.
Hip- hop's in the street,
now were all busting
50 Cent's on MTV,
now it's cool to carry metal
F 
Objects,
Now the object is to kill.
How can you value life when you're so
Am 
close to death? Stainless steel,
How's it make you feel,
Blud, holding that buckey?
Knowledge is power,
guns just make you feel lucky.
F 
It's fuckry the way these
yout' man like to go on,
Busting shots in the crowd when there's a show
Am 
on, they're just putting a show on.
Real gangsters stay underground
like non- fiction,
They don't fire blanks at Yanks like
when Nas played at Brixton.
F 
Thrill seeking dickheads just doing
it for kicks and
Hear a next man speak
their name from his lips and
Am 
Give a guy props for licking
shots from a gun
Like if they fired one at him the
fucking prick wouldn't run.
F 
It's like they're praising these youths
for acting so dumb and it's no excuse,
Most of us are fatherless sons.

Verse 3
Am 
(Where you from?)
I'm from a place were the streets
are filled with snakes
That smile in your face as they plot
to do wrong.
F 
(Where you from?)
I'm from a town where the mans will
take you down
If they see you making pounds and flashing
it around like you the don
Am 
('Cause where I'm from?)
They don't give a fuck if you got talent,
Only got love for your bank balance
like, "Give me the wrong!"
F 
(That's where I'm from)
Don't ever get it twisted.
Yeah I'm really, really from the ends
Am 
now what the fuck you want?

Verse 4
Yo, where you from?
Are you really from the ends?
Well that depends on what the fuck
you mean by ends,
F 
If you south of the Thames, then nah,
I ain't from them ends.
Am 
I'm from these ends, they call it the East end,
my friend,
And round here you gotta watch your back
'cause everyone's bent,
Bare man who think they're rough
just 'cause they're shooting the peng,
F 
Hating on Plan B 'cause they don't
know me as Ben.
Youths as young as ten walking round
Am 
thinking they're men.
They're under the influence,
and I ain't even talking 'bout drugs,
I'm talking bout why the fuck
they're walking like thugs.
F 
They're in love with the idea
of being a gangster,
Romantic idealisms producing
hot jism like a wanker.
Am 
What ever happened to good old fashioned
street fighting like Blanka?
Queensbury Rules,
G 
mate, that's how I vent anger,
F 
Vent my anger,
Knock out your teeth if
you bring me beef,
Am 
Leave you looking like a chief.

Verse 5
Am 
Where you from blood, where you from?
What's your name?
F 
(Where you from?)
Plan B? Yeah I've heard of you,
still.
Yeah yeah, you're fucked up,
you're fucked up.
Am 
('Cause where I'm from?)
Yeah, yeah,
that's cool though.
F 
(That's where I'm from)
Give me your phone, anyway.
Give me your phone,
I don't give a shit,
Am 
Give me your phone, blood.
Don't make me jibb you up.
You see this blade and I'll cut
F 
your throat