Little Sammy was a kid on a council estate
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His dad listened to the skids, the slits and the slates
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So Sammy listened too, he loved the passion in it
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He loved the feeling in his spine with every snare hit
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One day his dad bought the Sunday rag
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Came with a CD of Mozart and a TV mag
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The TV was broke so he put the CD on and listened
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And his eyes lit up and his smile, it glistened
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He had never known that music could have so many layers
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Different emotions placed upon different parts and players
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Each week he waited for the next free CD
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To put on his headphones and get lost completely
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So he saved all his money, one goal in mind
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To go down to a performance and see this live
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It took eight long months to raise these funds
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But the excitement was immense when that day did come
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With his pockets full of coins he got the bus to the city
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He watched the view become less shitty and gritty
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Even though he was alone in this big dark place
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Nothing could remove the smile from his face
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When he arrived, everyone was in suits
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Sammy stood there in tatty jeans and boots
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He slammed his coins on the counter "one ticket please"
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But the guy turned up his nose like he was gonna sneeze
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He looked away and served the next couple suited and booted
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But Sammy stood his ground and asked again less muted
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They laughed and someone sneered "Get out of here pikey
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Appreciation on your level seems less than likely"
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Tears built up in little Sammy's eyes
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It seemed his place in society he could not hide
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His head dropped for a minute but then his head was held
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He looked them in the eyes as he screamed and yelled
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He saida˘ć|
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Stop being a snob with ya music
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It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
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Ya get so damn precious sometimes
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It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies in time
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There was this other kid, she lived on the outskirts of Leicester
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Her friends called her Frankie, her parents Francesca
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I gotta admit she was kind of ignorant
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But the kind you expect of wealth and affluence
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No offence! She just lived in a different world
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With different priorities, a real status girl
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Her musical taste were an NME playlist
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And anything recommended by the rich and famous
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Now one day she was buying tunes online
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She'd just got into Beck five years out of time
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When she went to download Midnight Vultures
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She got confused and grabbed Midnight Marauders
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The only hip hop she knew was when that boy Kanye
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Got featured in her mag doing a track with Coldplay
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But as she reached to turn it off Q-Tip started to speak
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And in that split second somehow he connected deep
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She sat up, 'til god knows what time
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Hunting for more beats, breaks and rhymes
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She could barely believe that music so far from her role
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Could resonate and connect to the root of her soul
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She woke late the next day and hit the record store
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She'd found a lot of dope tracks but she wanted more
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She walked in and went straight to the guy at the desk
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She said, "I'm loving De La Soul and a Tribe Called Quest
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I've heard good things about Rakim and KRS
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So I'm looking for advice on what's the best of the best"
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The guys looked at each other, raised an eyebrow and smiled
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And they looked back at her like a little lost child
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Then they laughed "little posh girl getting her ghetto on?
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Go back to daddy little girl this ain't where you belong"
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She felt demoralized and stupid and all alone
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And then she screamed in their faces with a visceral tone
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She saida˘ć|
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Stop being a snob with ya music
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It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it
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Ya get so damn precious sometimes
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It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies in time
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Snob
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| Dan Le Sac Vs Scroobius Pip |
