Snob

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