Artist: Plan B Album: Ill Manors Song: The Runaway Typed by: jostmatt at bluewin dot ch [ VERSE 1: Plan B ] This story's dark like the place where the story starts Full of fiends and gangsters with gory hearts Drugged up girls dressed up like naughty tarts Performin sex and perverted forms of art On anybody with a fantasy that needs fulfillin Even the filth, cops'll lock up man for stealin ( ? ) sweat drippin off the ceilin Sadomasochist that needs to quench the thirst for beatings Anything goes when you got the riches But only the sexually depraved pay for pregnant bitches Her name's Katya, yours to do what you wish with If you're into chicks that wake up with morning sickness And have to make their way past people fuckin Punters hooked on hookers hooked on smack, cluckin Spend her days gettin touched up on fucked fuckin Wishin she would wake up from the nightmare she was stuck in But she wasn't wakin up from nothin, this was her reality Place where dreams come true for those who lack morality Tried to get out, if not for her child, for her sanity Cause the only difference between this place and hell was gravity [ CHORUS ] He want the business Runaway, runaway Where the money, man? Runaway, runaway He want the business Runaway, runaway He want the business, the business, the money man [ VERSE 2: Plan B ] It was a weird twist of fate the way that she escaped She knew her chance would come, she just had to wait Till one of her abductors made a mistake Mixin vodka with hard pills and smokin a straight With the door unlocked ain't the smartest idea When your run-ins are illegal, when your cargo live in fear The path was now clear, but only for her exit Cause the road ahead was long and full of unexpected Twists and turns, she learned inadvertently How to cope with life's little moments of incertainty Feelin safe on the street, no matter how absurd it seems The mother and baby unit where she had disturbing dreams Was a place she didn't feel safe and had to leave Would only be a matter of time before she had police Askin her questions, findin out the truth about her underworld connections Sendin her back to the brothel, either that or simply just deportin her She's met corrupted law before, she can't see them supportin her So if she goes goes along the road it slowly starts destroyin her Not knowin where she's goin nor why God just keeps ignorin her [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 3: Plan B ] Life was hard in the brothel, now it's hard in the street Cause English is a language she can hardly speak Like so many Eastern European people you meet Only difference is illegal when they're earnin their keep She was smuggled into Britain almost four months gone She didn't know she was pregnant till she saw the bump And now the baby's here and they're both on the run If she don't beg, steal and borrow she ain't no kinda mum Her feelings a vicious circle with a big set of teeth The sharper the Yard, the smarter the thief So now she's broke and don't even know it Till she reaches for the purse and it hurts cause she stole it To find it ain't there, I guess you reap it, you sow it It's a bitch how karma works, it's hard to work out where she is goin Resortin back to prostitution where the traffic is flowin A ride stops and drives off when it sees what she's towin It must be hard knowin that you're nothin but a peasant Game for the hunters, they're preyin you like pheasant Loiterin at bus stops like bored adolescents With sex on their mind cause you give off the impression That you'd sell your soul for money, not find the thought repellent Gettin fucked in the field from behind while you breast-feed your child so it don't cry is unpleasnt But that's what she did and now we're back in the present Runaway, runaway