You Need Me, I Don’t Need You
(Ed Sheeran 2011)
[*I don’t to want to bruise your ears or hurt you again but I got back stabbed by a black cab when I needed a friend]
Now I’m in town, break it down, thinking of making a new sound
Playing a different show every night in front of a new crowd
That’s you now, hello, ciao, seems that life is great now
See me lose focus as I sing to you loud
I can’t, no, I won’t hush, I say the words that make you blush
I’m gonna sing this now
See, I’m true, my songs are where my heart is
I’m like glue, I stick to other artists
I’m not you, now that would be disastrous
Let me sing and do my thing and move to greener pastures
See, I’m real, I do it all, it’s all me
I’m not fake, don’t ever call me lazy
I won’t stay put, give me the chance to be free
Suffolk sadly seems to sort of suffocate me
‘Cos you need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me.
I sing, I write my own tune and I write my own verse, hell
Don’t need another wordsmith to make the tune sell
Call yourself a singer-writer, you’re just bluffing
Name’s on the credits and you didn’t write nothing
I sing fast, I know that all my shit’s cool
I will blast and I didn’t go to BRIT School
I came fast with the way I act, right
I can’t last, if I’m smoking on a crack pipe
And I won’t be a product of my genre
My mind will always be stronger than my songs are
Never believe the bullshit that fake guys feed to ya
Always read the stories that you hear in Wikipedia
And musically I’m demonstrating
When I perform live feels like I am meditating
Times at The Enterprise when some fella filmed me
Young singer-writer like a Gabriella Cilmi
‘Cos you need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me.
and all i want in this cold world is to make music
and use it not to abuse it
and get in facted infected with the whos who of music
who did it, whos is it, whos in it, who what the hell does it matter
chitter chatter dont matter
what a yida yida yata
it dont matter to me
all i want is a bit of dignity
you need to battle this industry
freely to be me in this cd needy world can you hear me
hey
so i keep singing that
when i first started this rapping shit i felt pressure from haters
became invaded with sadists and just developed a hater rader
im made for the stars pay my grind in the dark
and they came with the remedy kicking rhymes with the melody
Hennessy shots and all these fools on the block
who said youve got to be a gangster now to raise the top
im just a normal causual usual everyday type of guy
with my head in the sky
ed sheeran urban angel coming ready to die
so see the signs stand at the side open your eyes
and take a look and realise
the ressurection arised and theres a missed clears
i arised from my tomb in the skys
im all alone a lone star urban angel rising from the ashes
suprising no haters guiding or moving now steady
You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
I’m into having sex, I ain’t into making love
So come give me a hug if you into getting rubbed
You can find me in the club, bottle full of bubby
Look mummy I got the X if you into taking drugs
I’m into having sex, I ain’t into making love
So come give me a hug if you feel me gettin’ rough
uh huh ah hu ooooh
uh huh ah hu ooooh
(50 Cent - In Da Club)
[*Hey Hey, we bring the stars out
We bring the women and the cars and the cards out
Let’s have a toast a celebration get a glass out
And we can do this until we pass out, pass out
Hey, we bring the stars out
We bring the women and the cars and the cards out
Let’s have a toast a celebration get a glass out
And we can do this until we pass out
(Tinie Tempah - Pass Out)]
my eyes are red ive been burning
ive been burning
my eyes are red ive been burning
ive been burning
my eyes are red ive been burning
ive been burning on a spliff of your high grade
my eyes are red ive been burning
ive been burning, rastaman time
now where i come from burning weed it is a habit
a big fat bag of A grade weed you know ive got to have it
cos if i dont have it in my pocket im gonna panic
cos like i said where i come from smoking it is a habit
We’ll cook the bun and the rizzla up in the hood.
Waiting for tings I have inherited like a ghetto man should.
One of dem tings its okay weed because it makes me feel good.
Burning high grade says to me now yes it makes me feel……*tsshh* ??? insomnia is a drug.
And if I start to smoke it ima-nna turn into a thug.
Where I come from that they talking could that only get ya mug.
Where I come from burning weed it is a blessing from above.
Where I come from yes we bun it when we listen rub a dub.
Where I come from yes we bun it afta we just-a make a love.
Where I come from yes we bun it when the sun starts to shine.
I blaze high grade weed all the time.
(Laid Blak - Red)
Welcome to Jamrock, camp whe’ da’ thugs them camp at
Two pounds a weed inna van back
It inna your hand bag, your knapsack, it inna your back pack
The smell a give yah girlfriend contact
Some boy nuh know dis, them only come around like tourist
On the beach with a few club sodas
Bedtime stories, and pose like them name Chuck Norris
And don’t know the real hardcore
Cause Sandals a no ‘back-to’, da thugs Dem wi do whe’ them got to
And won’t think twice to shot you
Don’t make them spot you, unless you carry guns a lot too
And they don’t stand a chance (Damian marley - Welcome to Jamrock )
?finally the herbs come around?
‘Cos with the lyrics I’ll be aiming it right, I won’t stop till my name is in lights
At stadium heights with Damien Rice, on red carpets, now I’m on Arabian nights
Because I’m young I know my brother’s gonna give me advice
Long nighter, short height and I’m going hyper
Never be anything but a singer-songwriter
Yeah, the game’s over but now I’m on a new level
Watch how I step on the track without a loop pedal
People think that I’m bound to blow up, I’ve done around about a thousand shows
But I haven’t got a house plus I live on the couch
So you believe the lyrics when I’m singing them out
From day one, I’ve been prepared, with VO5 wax for my ginger hair
So now I’m back to the sofa giving a dose of what the future holds
[I still got an old sack with the old clothes,
i rap with the cold flows,
im back with most jokes infact you dont know,
on tracks i throw blows to make my punchlines revelant,
if you cant keep up, you’ll get none you’re celibate,
my flows developing, skin lacks the menolin,
give me a shot of adrenanlin and i’ll get it in,
i do it for the hell of it,
ever since i hit the mainstream with the a-team i seem to sell a bit
i took what held me back with the women, and then i packaged and image,
put in some content, and then i sold it back as a gimmick,
the fact is this, ill end up dating actresses,
wake up on dirty matresses, i think i need to practice this,
but i make shit happen, call me a laxative
worlds on my shoulders i dont even know what atlas is,
hard bars sharp like a cactus is,
im back to rapping, back to back ‘cause,
ive been practising im back to sing this (Ed and Wretch 32)]
‘Cos it’s another day, plus I keep my last name forever, keep this genre pretty basic
Gonna be breaking into other people’s tunes when I chase it
And replace it with the elephant in the room with a facelift
Into another rapper’s shoes using new laces
Selling CD’s from my rucksack aiming for the papers
Selling CD’s from my rucksack aiming for majors
Nationwide tour with Just Jack, still had to get the bus back
Clean-cut kid without a razor for the moustache
I hit back when the pen hurts me, I’m still a choir boy in a Fenchurch tee
I’m still the same as a year ago but more people hear me though
According to the MySpace and YouTube videos
I’m always doing shows if I’m not I’m in the studio
Truly broke, never growing up call me Rufio
Melody music maker, reading all the papers
They say I’m up-and-coming like I’m fucking in an elevator
I’ve been living out of rucksacks, suitcases too long but I feel good a new day a new dawn i’m singing Nina Simone for the hell of it and I’m keeping it home grown to sell a bit now I leave the quick silver sofa surfin life lacking sober nights so I try to take my own advice because I know I’m right since sixteen sixty four beers uh hit my figure quicker multiplied by bitter liquor in every inch of liver so how am I gonna live my dream if I never sleep I know I better keep thinking that it’s meant to be and how am I gonna live my dream if I never sleep and are you gonna help out
‘Cos you need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me, man, I don’t need you.
* = not in this version but in others
