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letra de got it back - adam the rapper

[hook]
love you, yes i do
yes i really love you
and i’d do everything that i can
to get you back again

[verse 1]
i was young, everything was tough and/or brill
pen scribbled hard, still sharp and fast
it all went into the book
from the slow-k!ll job to the blown-bills raving
niche in the sofa deepens
cup of tea and my roll-ups
squeaking wheel from the earhole
gerbil running, bic biro hums like the dynamo that night has
spew time lapse, eyes full of light cats
speaking in lover’s tones
spew drunks out on london road
to the beachfront, clean shirt, drink, ruck, f-ck and home
found way with my fourth brother
my navy day-a-page pad ‘09 diary
turn to a journal, a fateful day
gate 13 heathrow, day long wait
kept busy since, with the dropped fruit
catching apples that would otherwise rot through

[hook]

[verse 2]
now i’m cross legged, bedroom bound
north london
rent in a tin on a shelf where i sleep
six people live here, i trust ‘em
and i got enough work
i know rent’s made next week
more chilled out now and less angry
less trusting sadly
less self-destruction on the weekend
i still love a pub and a free one, i just love my brain more
and a page of a4 and a pen’s potential
though i scribble less bars now if i’m honest
i always pack a pad in my back pocket
stop write on it when the need seizes
though recent that need comes less freely
now stuff’s just a brush touch easier
i still stress, still graft, still work hard
but i’m scrabbling in the dirt for that spark where a verse starts
more content than the youth from the first half
more level, less likely to die from a burst heart
not blocked, still hungry
just flowing slower
i’m kinda frozen over
i’ll do everything i can (everything)
to get you back (get you back)

[hook]

[verse 3]
so i read more books and i learn
learn more from people
listen, kotch, watch and observe
i’m there when i bop along a curb past top dogs, lost souls and salts of the earth
headphones out, in the moment, mind open
i stride and my eyes find everything
i’m the sp-ce where i am and i still got a brain from skating
interpret my street as a play thing
writing’s my new wheels
parks less concrete more metaphysics
in the library find me where non-fiction is
on the train see me wiggin’ out to prince and tom robbins
listen to less rap since the genre rotted
tired of rinsed rhyme schemes and non-topic concepts
swapped sofa for turf, chair burst
bail out my corner, and found a whole world there
got it back

- adam the rapper

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