Snob

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

He loved the feeling in his spine with every snare hit

One day his dad bought the Sunday rag

Came with a CD of Mozart and a TV mag

The TV was broke so he put the CD on and listened

And his eyes lit up and his smile, it glistened

He had never known that music could have so many layers

Different emotions placed upon different parts and players

Each week he waited for the next free CD

To put on his headphones and get lost completely

So he saved all his money, one goal in mind

To go down to a performance and 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 was in suits

Sammy stood there in tatty jeans and boots

He slammed his coins on the counter "one ticket please"

But the guy turned up his nose like he was gonna sneeze

He looked away and served the next couple suited and booted

But Sammy stood his ground and asked again less muted

They laughed and 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 he 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 ya music

It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it

Ya get so damn precious sometimes

It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies in time

There was this other kid, she lived on the outskirts of Leicester

Her friends called her Frankie, her parents Francesca

I gotta admit she was kind of ignorant

But the kind you expect of wealth and affluence

No offence! She just lived in a different world

With different priorities, a real status girl

Her musical taste were an NME playlist

And anything recommended by the rich and famous

Now one day she was buying tunes online

She'd just got into Beck five years out of 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 featured in her mag doing a track with Coldplay

But as she reached to turn it off Q-Tip started to speak

And in that split second somehow he connected deep

She sat up, 'til god knows what time

Hunting for more beats, breaks and rhymes

She could barely believe that music so far from her role

Could resonate and connect to the root of her soul

She woke late the next day and hit the record store

She'd 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

And they looked back at her like a little lost child

Then they laughed "little posh girl getting her ghetto on?

Go back to daddy little girl this ain't where you belong"

She felt demoralized and stupid and all alone

And then she screamed in their faces with a visceral tone

She said…

Stop being a snob with ya music

It's made to be heard man, anyone can use it

Ya get so damn precious sometimes

It's just rhythms and rhymes and melodies in time