There’s conflict round every street corner,
intimidation, from mean eyes that stare,
the warnings are clear for all to see,
get lost! back off! beware!

It doesn’t matter how big you are,
your age, your sex, your size.
You’ll get the message loud and clear,
when you look into my eyes.

If you’re looking for trouble I’ll give you a smack,
it’s the sort of thing I do.
Rub me the wrong way, and listen jack,
you may find I’ll cut you.

I hang around the streets all day,
don’t need or want a job.
I take what I want, when I want it,
they’ve branded me a yob.

I’ve been in your house and nosed about,
I’ve rifled through your gear.
I don’t care if you’re in or out,
from you, I’ve nowt to fear.

But when it comes to six o’clock,
I’m gone, the streets are yours.
There’s tuna waiting in my dish,
and I’ve got to clean my paws.