you need me, i don't need you
Singer:ed sheeran
thinking of making a new sound
playing a different show every night in front of a new crowd
seems that life is great now
i'll say the words that make you blush
my songs are where my heart is
now that would be disastrous
let me sing and do my thing and move to greener pastures
give me the chance to be free
suffolk sadly seems to sort of suffocate me
i sing and write my own tune and i write my own verse
don't need another word-smith to make my tune sell. call yourself a singer-writer. you're just bluffing
name's on the credits and you didn't write nothing
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
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 on wikipedia
and musically i'm demonstrating
feels like i am meditating
times at the enterprise when some fella filmed me
'a young singer-writer like gabriella cilmi'
'cause with the lyrics i'll be aiming it right
i won't stop 'til my name's in lights
at stadium heights with damien rice
now i'm on arabian nights
because i'm young i know my brother's gonna give me advice
never be anything but a singer-songwriter
the game's over but now i'm on a new level
watch how i step on the track without a loop pedal
'cause people think that i'm bound to blow up
i've done around about a thousand shows
but i haven't got a house
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
'cause it's another day plus
i'll keep my last name forever
keep the 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
i'm selling cds from my rucksack aiming for the papers
selling cds from my rucksack aiming for the majors
nationwide tour with just jack
still had to get the bus back
clean cut kid without a razor for the mustache
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
they say i'm up and coming like i'm fucking in an elevator
still got a rucksack for the old clothes
i rap with the cold flows
i'm back with the old jokes
on tracks i throw blows to make my punchlines relevant
if you can't keep up you'll get none
give me a shot of adrenaline and i get it in
i do it for the hell of it
'cause ever since i hit the mainstream with the a team
i took what held me back with the women
and then i packaged the image
and then i sold it back as a gimmick
i'll end up dating actresses
wake up on dirty mattresses
i think i need to practice this
i don't even know what atlas is
hard part's sharp like a cactus is
i'm back to rapping back to back
'cause i've been practicing