Polish Peter suvrvival

„POLISH PETER – SURVIVAL OF SIZEWELL C”

(Mobb Deep / gritty / dark boom-bap)

[INTRO – whispered / gritty]
Yeah…
Sizewell C… IGNE soldiers…
This ain’t rap… this is a report from the dirt.
Polish Peter… let’s get it.


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[VERSE 1]
We work where the ground can kill you in a blink,
Mortars sleep under mud thicker than you think.
Three-inch, four-two bombs rustin’ in the clay,
One wrong move and the whole squad fade away.

Cold mornings, hard helmets, steel in the chest,
Sappers walk slow — every step is a test.
I'm in the Volvo, twenty-two tons of breath,
Pullin’ roots where explosives hide like death.

Paddy wise like a captain with dust in his veins,
Tom cracked under pressure of the storms and the chains.
Fired me for soft ground? Man, the system was fake—
No rails, no guards — who’s really at stake?
Still, I rise, no hate — life’s bigger than blame,
Survival taught me: turn the loss into flame.


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[HOOK – MOBB DEEP VIBE, LOW TONE]
We the ones in the shadows, clearin’ land for the light,
Real soldiers in the dirt, real steel in the fight.
Sizewell C — where the brave don’t flee,
You either stand like a man… or you crumble to debris.


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[VERSE 2]
Elun in the rig like he born for the throne,
Talked big, but his loyalty was carved in stone.
Dale built like a tank — Craig played with my sight,
Told me “find little Dale”… bro, that shit wasn’t right.
I asked short dudes all day, then a giant walked by —
“Damn… THAT'S Dale…” nearly laughed till I cried.

Whitty’s accent heavy like fog in the docks,
Steve — crazy vet, but a lion in the box.
War in Ukraine left fire in his stare,
But his heart stayed gold — real ones are rare.

Screech deep-voiced beast, body carved in steel,
Didn’t follow no crowd, kept his honour real.
Scotty old warrior, hands covered in time,
Shit himself in the traffic — but that don’t touch his shine.
Respect ain’t for perfect — respect is for men,
And Scotty stood tall again and again.


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