Pablo Couldn't Dance (DnB v1.4 WIP)

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[Intro — spoken, dry, filtered, no drums] 
Pablo had a warehouse full of keys. 
Clave means key. He never found the one.

[instrumental]
Pablo couldn’t dance.
Pablo
Pablo

[Verse 1 — MC, half-time, sparse drums] 
Pablo could count. Pablo counted in his sleep.
Counted every kilo, counted every week.
Counted up the weight, counted up the freight —
counted to a billion and he never got to eight.

Stood at his own party with a drink in his hand,
clapping on the one and the three like a man
counting out his money while the room moves on.
Everybody found it. Pablo never found the one.

Burned two million cash just to keep out the cold.
Should've found a dancefloor. Never learned to hold.
Had a private zoo, had a jet, had it all —
couldn't count to four with his back to the wall.

[Build] Three steps and a hold. Three steps and a —

[Drop — chopped, call and response] 
Pablo couldn't dance. (WE CAN) 
Salsa is the drug now. (WE CAN) 
Find the one. Find the —

[Verse 2 — MC, half-time] 
Colombia sent two things out. We picked wrong.
One of them was powder. One of them was song.
One of them's a comedown, a curtain and a phone.
One of them's a room where you're never on your own.

Meanwhile down in Cali it's a Friday and it's free,
kid on the floor doing things you can't see.
No cut, no plug, no door, no fee.
Cutting shapes, not lines. Salsa is the key.

He shipped the white and the whole world signed up. 
Thirty years of box sets and nobody looked up. 
Same soil, same sun, same country, same year — 
one of them buried him. One of them's still here.

[Build] Find the one. Find the — find the —

[Drop — chopped, call and response] 
Pablo couldn't dance. (WE CAN) 
Salsa is the drug now. (WE CAN) 
Three steps — hold. 
Three steps — hold.

[Breakdown — drums out, half-sung, room reverb] 
He's under a slab with a fence and a queue. 
We're upstairs on a Tuesday and the trumpet's coming through. 
The hippos he imported are still out in the river — 
only thing he left that moves, and they've got no timing either.

No judgement, mate, you do what you do. 
He just sold you the worse of the two. 
Three steps and a hold. That's the whole of it. 
Man had everything on earth and he couldn't do it.

[Final drop — maximum energy, gang vocal] 
PABLO COULDN'T DANCE! (WE CAN) 
SALSA IS THE DRUG NOW! (WE CAN) 
Find the one! 
Find the one!

[Outro — spoken, dry, filtering out] 
Pablo had a warehouse full of keys. 
Salsa was the one. 
He never found it. 
We did.

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[Intro — spoken, dry, filtered, no drums] Pablo had a warehouse full of keys. Clave means key. He never found the one. [instrumental] Pablo couldn’t dance. Pablo Pablo [Verse 1 — MC, half-time, sparse drums] Pablo could count. Pablo counted in his sleep. Counted every kilo, counted every week. Counted up the weight, counted up the freight — counted to a billion and he never got to eight. Stood at his own party with a drink in his hand, clapping on the one and the three like a man counting out his money while the room moves on. Everybody found it. Pablo never found the one. Burned two million cash just to keep out the cold. Should've found a dancefloor. Never learned to hold. Had a private zoo, had a jet, had it all — couldn't count to four with his back to the wall. [Build] Three steps and a hold. Three steps and a — [Drop — chopped, call and response] Pablo couldn't dance. (WE CAN) Salsa is the drug now. (WE CAN) Find the one. Find the — [Verse 2 — MC, half-time] Colombia sent two things out. We picked wrong. One of them was powder. One of them was song. One of them's a comedown, a curtain and a phone. One of them's a room where you're never on your own. Meanwhile down in Cali it's a Friday and it's free, kid on the floor doing things you can't see. No cut, no plug, no door, no fee. Cutting shapes, not lines. Salsa is the key. He shipped the white and the whole world signed up. Thirty years of box sets and nobody looked up. Same soil, same sun, same country, same year — one of them buried him. One of them's still here. [Build] Find the one. Find the — find the — [Drop — chopped, call and response] Pablo couldn't dance. (WE CAN) Salsa is the drug now. (WE CAN) Three steps — hold. Three steps — hold. [Breakdown — drums out, half-sung, room reverb] He's under a slab with a fence and a queue. We're upstairs on a Tuesday and the trumpet's coming through. The hippos he imported are still out in the river — only thing he left that moves, and they've got no timing either. No judgement, mate, you do what you do. He just sold you the worse of the two. Three steps and a hold. That's the whole of it. Man had everything on earth and he couldn't do it. [Final drop — maximum energy, gang vocal] PABLO COULDN'T DANCE! (WE CAN) SALSA IS THE DRUG NOW! (WE CAN) Find the one! Find the one! [Outro — spoken, dry, filtering out] Pablo had a warehouse full of keys. Salsa was the one. He never found it. We did.

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