| Gimme the tune and
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| Even if it don’t mean the same
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| But every time I’ll sing for you
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| But every time I’ll sing for you
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| Will see you bought and sold, and sold, riding home
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| I don’t know… ain’t no home…
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| Wait, the same little boy with the cassette tape?
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| The big foot jeans, awaiting at the school gate
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| Late night thoughts, he’s tearing up the paper
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| And here’s the soundbite ten years later
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| He took the yard to the city an he mixed it
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| Mattafixed it, now he’s on some sick shhh
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| So keep your money and your cars and your deals
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| I’m riding home on the same two wheels
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| Gimme the tune and
|
| Even if it don’t mean the same
|
| But every time I’ll sing for you
|
| But every time I’ll sing for you
|
| Wait the same little boy they used to underestimate?
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| Made a great escape with only practice
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| An attic and a mattress
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| This same man is trying to hatch this game plan
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| And catch a vibe make it world wide
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| Spirals of idols and rivals labelled as a dreamer
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| Stroll as the world rolls by you in a beamer
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| Now empathize if you know how it feels
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| Riding home on the same two wheels
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| I made my best friends
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| From the West Indies to the West End
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| In every corner in every section
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| Perfection, long lasting connection
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| The little boy with the clear skin complexion
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| Afternoons and I’m scrubbing old sneakers
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| In time to the vibes from my makeshift speakers
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| I’m still trying to walk good though
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| I’m slightly awkward
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| Gimme the tune and
|
| Even if it don’t mean the same
|
| But every time I’ll sing for you
|
| But every time I’ll sing for you
|
| Will see you bought and sold, and sold, riding home
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| So, things didn’t work out exactly how I planned it
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| No matter how you brand it I’m still the same bandit
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| Essentially the story of the 21st century
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| Kid make your music cause it’s meant to be
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| Music cause it’s meant to be
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| I’m making music cause it’s meant to be
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| You never know what it meant to me
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| Now if you’re bought and sold, and sold you’re riding home |