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Testo Snob - Dan le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip

Testo della canzone Snob (Dan le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip), tratta dall'album The Logic of Chance

Little Sammy was a kid on a council estate
His dad listened to the skids, the slits and the slates
So Sammy listened too, he loved the passion in it
Felt the feeling in his mind with every snare hit
One day his dad bought the Sunday rag
Came with a CD of Motorpsyche and a TV mag
The TV was broke, so he put the CD on and listened
His eyes lit up, his smile it glistened
He'd never known that music could have so many layers
Different emotions, space and different parts and players
Each week he'd wait for the next free CD
To put on his headphones and get lost completely
So he saved all his money with one goal in mind
To go down to a performance to see this live
It took eight long months to raise these funds
But the excitement was immense when that day did come
With his pockets full of coins he got the bus to the city
He watched the view become less shitty and gritty
Even though he was alone in this big dark place
Nothing could remove the smile from his face
When he arrived, everyone else was in suits
Sammy stood there in tatty jeans and boots
Slammed his coins on the counter, one ticket please
He put the gutter up his nose like he was gonna sneeze
He looked away and said the next couple suited and booted
But Sammy stood his ground and asked again less muted
They laughed, someone sneered, get out of here pikey
Appreciation on your level seems less than likely
Tears built up in little Sammy's eyes
It seemed his place in society could not hide
His head dropped for a minute but then his head was held
He looked them in the eyes as he screamed and yelled, he said
Stop being a snob with your music
It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
You get so damn precious sometimes
It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies and time
Stop being a snob with your music
It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
You get so damn precious sometimes
It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies and time
So there was this other kid, she lived on the outskirts of Leicester
Her parents called her Frankie, her parents Francesca
I've gotta admit, she was kind of ignorant
But the kind you'd expect with wealth and affluence
Not offence, she just lived in a different world
With different priorities, a real status girl
Her musical tastes were an NME playlist
And anything recommended by the rich and famous
Now one day she was buying tunes online
She just got into Beck, 5 Years at a Time
When she went to download Midnight Vultures
She got confused and grabbed Midnight Marauders
The only hip hop she knew was when that boy Kanye
Got beached in a mag doing a track with Coldplay
She reached to turn it off, music started to speak
In that split second somehow it connected deep
She sat up till god knows what time
Hunting for more bass breaks and rhymes
She could barely believe that music so far from her world
Could resonate and connect to the root of her soul
She rose late the next day and hit the record store
She found a lot of dope tracks but she wanted more
She walked in and went straight to the guy at the desk
She said "I'm loving De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest
I've heard good things about Rakim and KRS
So I'm looking for advice on what's the best of the best"
The guys looked at each other, raised an eyebrow and smiled
Then they looked back at her like a little lost child
Then they laughed, posh girl getting her ghetto on
Go back to daddy little girl, this ain't where you belong
She felt demoralised and stupid and all alone
And then she screamed in their face with a visceral tone, she said
Stop being a snob with your music
It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
You get so damn precious sometimes
It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies and time
Stop being a snob with your music
It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
You get so damn precious sometimes
It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies and time
Stop being a snob with your music
It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
You get so damn precious sometimes
It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies and time
Stop being a snob with your music
It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
You get so damn precious sometimes
It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies and time



Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Stephens, David Peter Meads
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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