album cover
Etc..
230
Hip-Hop/Rap
Etc.. was released on February 15, 2010 by Tea Sea Records as a part of the album It's So Different Here
album cover
Release DateFebruary 15, 2010
LabelTea Sea Records
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM85

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tom Caruana
Tom Caruana
Composer

Lyrics

Alright, let's go
Benny, you bring some records for the party
Right, TC
And you go get some signs made, Spook, and all that jazz
Right, TC, baby
Now you get us some dates, Fancy
One each oughta do
Gotcha, TC
Brain, you take care of the formal invites
Uh, the formal invites?
Gotcha, TC
How 'bout this party, Benny?
Boy, ain't it a pip?
I figure we oughta hold one every week
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Excellent
I'm elevated like pianos, black notes
Stack quotes and tap toes
Being streamed is just how the track flows
Minds get blown like saxophones
Yeah, it's that bloke who's a tad broke
Hittin' back home, entertained by some crap joke
On my Jack Jones, funky like Daptones
Most rap shows are more cheesy than nachos
One hundred and ten percent
When the stars align, it's my time to write
Once checked through, I find a mic
Plug it in, then dim the bright light
My direction depends on emotions
Tide carries me away, sea floatin'
Yeah, I'm cruisin', you won't find me gloatin'
Always movin', that's why I'm near oceans
Always waitin', I'm bad with decisions
Always makin', I'm an addict of rhythm
Can't focus, I'm sat in the distance
In this cold house with a hat and some mittens
I'm the maddest when driven
Take samples lackin' permission
But I won't be sat in prison, oh no
'Cause there's a crack in the system
Passin' on wisdom to find gold treasure
Diggin' through chests, that's an old pleasure
Make you jump like sittin' on cold leather
Pleased to be someone who never sold cheddar
Keep it movin' through exotic lands
There's nothin' like the feel of tropic sands
A blissful break, yeah, I've got it planned
To take listeners and turn 'em into proper fans
Find me on the floor, a crate digger
With the dodgy back, the vinyl weightlifter
But I'm a muso whose flow's like a shapeshifter
Make filters to-do list page lister
Hey, mister
Do you mind? I'm tryna concentrate
Get the song straight and I don't want to wait
Take your eye off your dinner, it gets stolen from your plate
Without a second to contemplate
Guts get wrenched from the bass
Hairs stand on end and expressions on the face
From the melodies that breathe so heavenly
To that monotony, this is like a remedy
I'd start a band if I could find ten of me
I'm from the sticks like celery
So what you tellin' me? Yeah, it's just the pen and me
Rollin' along with the tune so merrily
So long, Top Cat
Have a nice trip, champ
Goodbye
Like aloha, hooey
Written by: Tom Caruana
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