In my eyes Dave has his own ‘genre’ he speaks what he lives in the form of ‘rap’ he is just educating not trying be a big man . He is so educated for his age. I have more respect for him than I do for 90% of the industry combined. Dave is The future
The fact that he just won't Album of the year at the Brits this year and did a performance just like this at the BRITS is blowing my mind ALWAYS STAY TRUE TO YOURSELF DAVE!!!
Dave is a conscious young rapper unlike the mumble rappers we have nowadays lol may God keep guiding you to be a conscious rapper for the rest of your life. Stay true to your yourself always because that's where you will find contentment.
Conscious lyrics and a stunning performance. Such an important speaker... Dave, George the Poet and ishmahil blagrove are some of the individuals opening my eyes - as a white man from Essex - to the plight of non-white folk in this country. Thank you
the lyrics in this song are so underrated, people aren't deeping how literal it is. He nearly did get killed when he was 17.. if you know you know. He chose the right path
Dave is an inspiration his bars I relate to and have help me so much through my life everyone can link to Dave if there having a bad Time officially certified best of all time thanks Dave 💯 just hoped it was me up on that stage at Glastonbury duetting Tiago Silva love he’s going far
call me schofield cos i got prison in my skin..dave explains race as well as any author or scholar but does it with such skill. mans got bars like a prison cell
Picture me, twenty-three, a bag of sold out shows I made it out of music, I took all my bro's And this merchandise is poppin', I sell all my clothes And all these hoes are ghost, I got one real girl Picture me, twenty-three, I didn't chase my dreams My mum wanted me to do finance, so I came off beats And now I'm sitting at a desk, with a 2:2 in finance Eating pasta on my lunch break While I'm scribbling my rhymes And picture me, seventeen, in an all black suit Laying still in a coffin, surrounded by my crew Giving half-heart apologies For watching while they bottled me Or running when they shot at me You're next up if you prodigy, wait I meant poke a G Picture me, a road banger, I hope that you don't notice me No face for the road, my G Kill him in seven ways, lemon haze how I smoke a G Name can get you out the beef, pissed if you owe me P's Them boys try and piss take, boy, what a mistake I'll come back with a shotty And blow your lungs out your rib cage Picture me a snitch, nah I couldn't picture that Picture me a snitch, nah I couldn't ever think of that Picture me with a baby mum That didn't wanna see me blow So she let my talent go to waste like Robinho I've been involved, I've seen the roads Where the good die young, and the bad get life And the ugly is the ugly, but Picture me, a legend, worldwide or in Streatham Known for words in a sentence I put verbs in a sentence There's action in my letters And I never compromise Nor follow what the trend is, I create my own style 'Cause I got my own agendas, I got music all that matters But what about the yutes that ain't athletes or rappers? What about the yutes that ain't athletes or rappers Picture you, I don't know your picture can you paint it for me? And can you take out all the man that's gonna taint it for me? And can you take out all the girls that's gonna waste it for me? Or illustrate how you're gonna get to all these places for me? And if you can't, then don't worry G you got time But you just need to paint a picture, or just sketch a draft 'Cause, how you know you're going down the wrong road If you're in a dark place, and you don't select a path But picture you talking loads about goals and riches With a phone, full of cro shots, hoes and bitches And a head filled with fast dreams I talk to God like it's RE About my picture cause I can't see I'm at war with my mind So I'm still with a sket getting Ed like Hardy And I don't mind 'Cause them man there all speakers like Parties I'm conflicted on this mission So I'm still in the mist with a black star on my waist like Kwame Guys are on my case It's like I wasn't dialing banks for some pay While you was busy flicking shanks for a name Or busy robbin' drugs, with a dipper Or you could call me Scofield Why? cause I got prison in my skin But I won't ever have a prison in my picture Listen to my scripture, like teachers with teardrops Principles a killer, all for the skrilla But, it's not hard It comes from within So don't let anybody tell you to put drugs in the cling And don't let anybody tell you you can't run, dance, sing, or be a baller You can be a king Now you can work a 9 to 5 if it makes you smile at night Money ain't a measure of success 'Cause you can have a billion and dead You can have 20 grand flat and live a long, long life with no stress So listen I don't know your picture, can you paint it for me? And can you tell me where you batch of friends is taking you And can you tell me what your aspirations are, your dreams Forget the money brother, tell me what makes you, you Can you tell me why you wake up, what makes you tick What makes you smile, what makes you laugh What makes you sick Can you tell me why you're on this earth Can you tell me why you're living Is it in and out of prison Are you tryna touch a nation? Or are you tryna touch a paigon? You get your picture, get to painting Are you playing in a stadium? Or are you sitting in a station? You get your picture, get to painting Are you the guy inside the hospital That's praying that he makes it Or working with the surgeons and the nurses tryna save him Are you buried in a grave? For some pennies and a chain A memory that fades A picture you didn't paint I bet them boys think I'm panicking Pep Guardiola, G, I'm managing Stop saying that you beef me, it's embarrassing I never had these paigons, 'til my face was on this rapping ting Now every other yute is on chatty ting See me in a rave, it's black blades, lightsabers call me Anakin Music, money, paigons, education, fam' I handle it I try so hard in my tracks to give a message But it's messed cah I'll still get you shredded by some savages I swear you don't know pressure Ask Jack, I had labels playing deal or no deal like I'm Noel Edmonds Independent, no pressure My whole team Nike'd out to the socks you should know better A-levels, no pressure And my ex just text me, she should know better I can still paint a picture, put a pen into my hand It's time to paint your picture my brother Now you can go get it
