Video musicale

Looking Back
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In primo piano

Crediti

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Loyle Carner
Loyle Carner
Vocals
Tom Misch
Tom Misch
Programming
Diana Russell
Diana Russell
Speaker
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tom Misch
Tom Misch
Composer
Benjamin Coyle-Larner
Benjamin Coyle-Larner
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tom Misch
Tom Misch
Producer
Tim Montague
Tim Montague
Recording Engineer
Dan Parry
Dan Parry
Mixing Engineer
Nick Mills
Nick Mills
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer

Testi

Must be a fly in here somewhere Well not anymore, heh heh Face this Like water, never taste this Evil, white rose to a racist They used to hype 'cause my mothers face was white and my fathers face blacker than the scene outside a spaceship Flooded with rocks and jewels, crystals shine and shimmer He never let me use their words, "due time my jigga" Never called me nigga, said it's the master's tongue But being black and white, the trouble never asked for none But they all passed me some, fuck it, I grabbed it Both hands in the darkest sun, scribbled 'til the parker's done Grabbed another pen and scribbled where the parker's spun Following in footstops of fathers that were asked to run But not the one who wanted out and so they disappear All caught up in the fam and feeling like they interfere I'm thinking that my great grandfather could've owned my other one And yo, that shit is weird I'm lost (I'm) Wondering my cost (I'm) Telling you, it hurts, (I'm) If you don't know your worth So we run from the maker like sons in Jamaica Heart break, breaker like the sun's an equator We wasted it, before we even tasted it Cities on fire Quite literally The reason nobody's talking remains a mystery My brother's lost, telling him do it differently I wanna take the blame but we don't share the same history I'm lost Wonder my cost up in this space Mixed race, colour on my face, feeling misplaced A waste Ain't tryna tell you how my shit taste Pack a couple days in this thin case, make a move Write everyday and night 'til I say the truth Lose looking for some proof that I'm still in news See, I got it all to lose, nothing to prove Promise the day I get paid, I'ma pay my dues Uh, find the karma Told me I'm from Ghana but really it's Guyana Uh, I'm Coyle Larner to Carner, the birth place of my father's father I don't know the answer I'm lost Wondering my cost Telling you it hurts If you don't know your worth So we run from the maker like sons in Jamaica Heart bait breaker, duh, whatever Wasted it, before we even tasted it Fuck Ay, yeah, can I just get uhhh. You got chicken soup? Nah, only goat soup for today Uh, can I get one goat soup... erm... And then some curried chicken with, Only plain rice Yeah, can I just get plain rice then, And some, er, steamed veg as well please Only plain rice? Yeah
Writer(s): Benjamin Gerard Coyle-larner, Thomas Abraham Misch Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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