Coordinates: 50°55′24″N 0°09′03″W / 50.923303°N 0.150863°W / 50.923303; -0.150863
Hassocks is a large village and civil parish in the Mid Sussex district of West Sussex, England. Its name is believed to derive from the tufts of grass found in the surrounding fields.
Located approximately 7 miles (11 km) north of Brighton, with a population of 6,821, the area now occupied by Hassocks was just a collection of small houses and a coaching house until the 19th century, when work started on the London to Brighton railway. Hassocks until 2000 was just a postal district and prior to that the name of the railway station. The Parishes were Clayton and Keymer, it is believed that when the railway came in 1841 the Parish Councils were given the opportunity of naming the station. But they could not agree and eventually the directors of the London, Brighton & South Coast Railway gave up waiting and named the station Hassocks Gate themselves.
The area first became a centre of population around 20,000 years ago during the Stone Age. These people were mostly nomadic until approximately 5,000 years ago. Around this time, the first farmers settled on and around the South Downs, a mile to the south of the village. They travelled from the continent, bringing with them various types of farming livestock. Evidence of their existence has been found in the form of tools and dwellings around Stonepound Crossroads and in the Parklands area.
Baby can I talk to you for a minute?
I know you noticed things been tight around here lately
We don't really need all three of these bedrooms
If you really think about it, we could live without it
There's a vacant spot one floor beneath for more cheap
We could afford it easy
Wouldn't have to really pack
Borrow your granddad's van or no shit like that
Save a hundred fifty each month
Go to Red Lobster and eat what we want
Moved down, gave keys to the landlady
But I kept the spare set that she had gave me
It was cheaper but I actually regret
Couldn't even tell you were the extra money went
Can't go back now it's too late
New people moved into our old space
Of course they loud as a son of a bitch
Not just partying they wild on some other shit
They selling something out of there
All night you can hear people up and down the stairs
But shit I ain't telling them they wrong
I just learn to sleep with the television on
And every single Wednesday they be gone
From nine till about at least eleven in the morn
I get a little peace from the floor boards creaking
And sleep in cause there isn't anybody home
Shit they getting worse lately
They fuse and they curse and they wake up the baby
Last Tuesday night a fight broke out
And somebody let a gun off in the house
And so the very next morning, I listened through the floor until I heard them all leave
Crept upstairs with my old keys
Walked in a and helped myself to the whole thing
Half pound of week and a coke stash
A new 45 and a little stack of cash
Caught me a cab to St. Paul
Selling them things that cheap, man it ain't hard
Come home with close to 4 Gs
Plus saved my man a taste of the trees
Now I can hear them going crazy upstairs