Midnight in Balans (a COLORS show) Songtext
von Bashy

How ever do you want me?
How ever do you need me?
Look, it′s me writing on the wall

Late night dinners in the West End with best friends
Talking investments, midnight in Balans
Hatching plans for my nest egg
Next 10 years you'll see who has what, where
Was smart, who has and who hasn′t
Who had and then haven't
Splash it all for the drip is silly and sounds backwards
If I splash for the drip, could be covered in gallons
But the five grand coat don't keep you fed when you′re famished
Or when a pandemic′s gripping the planet


Can you manage?
In times of uncertainty, emergencies, do you have it?
Or was you too busy not planning and Hakkasan-ing?
Too many, too busy TikTok-ing, doing a challenge
These are the type of conversations I am having
Being candid, can't engage if they are vapid
Keep it rapid if the chat is not to flourish but to languish
Last few years, I have really been mashing big dough
But can′t stop until the income's passive
Living off my assets

True, we grew up poor, we never had the access to the information
Finance was a different language
When you′ve never had it and you have it
Wanna have it large instead of living average
Hard to understand it if you're not from there
Still I got here

Now I see the game clearer like Edgar Davids, through a different lens
In the highest bracket, who can offer advice?
Most never seen in their life what I pay in taxes
It′s more money, more possibilities, higher standards
From Zoopla to Modern House, I'm picking out a palace
Farrow and Ball, picking out palettes
Picking out paints, refined taste
I've developed my palate, delicate balance
My bank balance, fruits of my labour and given talent


Ain′t what you make, it′s what you keep, age old adage
Them cars are so savage when climbing those ladders
And make M's after runs like Mo Farah
Man invest in funds, I′m so thorough
Man's got life insurance, got cover
Man′s from North West 10, I'm so gutter
But I been White House, invite from Obama

Man don′t care for beef but don't mince my words
I don't stutter, it′s still, "Suck yah mudda"
If disrespect is sutten that you utter, uh-uh
I will still tun up
I′m the same whether with the gang or one-up
I'm not too tough to do a runner
Too much pride can put you under

How many man coulda still been alive
If they woulda just backed down? I wonder
There′s too many killings over nuttin'
And the reasons are getting dumber and dumber, dumber and dumber
Dumber and dumber, I′m feeling number and number
How you kill a man you used to call your brudda?
How you kill a man and used to nyam food from his mother?

I heard about a killing, it fucked up my whole summer
One day we'll meet again my brother, Insha′Allah
Coming from a borough where it's nothing but wahala on the come up
How much mental fortitude must one muster?
I got it out the mud without Hunter
I wanna live Hakuna Matata
But product of my environment to which I've come accustomed

I grew up ′round killers, ′round fraudsters, 'round shotters
I grew up ′round dreamers, 'round genius, ′round hustlers
I grew up in the ends where you're taught a load of rubbish
My mind was unjust so I had to make adjustments
′Cause I carry pain, all the shit that's man's suffered
Slave to man′s thoughts so I try to Fredrick Douglass
Jesus take the wheel while I′m playin Buju Banton

(How ever do you want me?) COLORS (How ever)
(How ever do you need me?) My name is Bashy
(How ever do you want me?)
You could've watched any video in the world but you watched this one (How ever do you need me? How ever)
(How ever do you want me? Do you want me?) Love, thank you
(How ever do you need me?) Being Poor is Expensive
Is the album (How ever do you want me?)
Listen if you can (How ever do you need me?)
Hope you enjoy (How ever)