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Skepta
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Knock Yourself Out
Skepta, daniel son
Boy Better Know
The hardest!!!
Listen, the ladies call me the Royal Mail
Cuz I got the total package
Fuckin em in Buckingham palace
I'm up my own pasage
Fuck them human beings, Im on my own planet
You anus, I'm famous
So ironically, I've got love for my haters
Fuck running up round ere
End up with two straps on your tongue like Prada trainers
I want new money, but I still get old money
So i gotta spend my pension
I should buy you a Tom-Tom for your birthday
Cause you ain't got no direction
No future, no plans
That's why you get air from fans
I buss on your girl then I told her to put the letter B
In the beggining of the 28 grams
I didn't ask you how to get here
So what makes you think I need your help now?
See them boxing gloves over there?
Put them on, fam, and knock yourself out
Listen, I'm cool, I'm fine
Boy Better Know is the label, I'm already signed
I'm the reason anyone over 25 still listens to grime
Yeah, what? Take that to heart
My head's burning from the talk in the yard
Man are like 'Nah man, I don't like grime'
But you see that nigga Skepta he's hard
Nah, you can't do it like me
Part time criminal, full time MC
Feds wanna lock up the IC3
Because I don't play like a blank CD
It's the way that I am with the women
I murked every single dance that I've been in
I'm a commercial artist, still one of grime's hardest
Stuck in the middle like sandwich filling
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I didn't ask you how to get here
So what makes you think I need your help now?
See them boxing gloves over there?
Put them on, fam, and knock yourself
They wanna criticise Skepta, but I got one question
Can you do better?
Always ready, bet you a tenner
You're not sure like English weather
Wanna see an action replay of Lord of the Mics 2
Then just write me a letter
I'm heavyweight, you're light like a feather
The microphone champion forever
These MC's wanna diss my baby mum
You're so lucky that I don't have a title
Swear to God, would've gone wild
Buss a man's face off the bathroom tile
I don't wanna battle rap with man no more
You must think we're in 8 Mile
Man a get mad like Jeremy Kyle
Give a man a Chelsea smile
How dare you chat about my unborn kid
Anyhow, I see another YouTube vid
Bit of wickedness, that, man have gone weird
Buss a man's face off the toilet lid
Every other lyric-chatting backburner informer
Cuh everybody knows what you did
Some bumbaclartid rahtid ting
Manaman's rolling with a six
I didn't ask you how to get here
So what makes you think I need your help now?
See them boxing gloves over there?
Put them on, fam, and knock yourself out
I didn't ask you how to get here
So what makes you think I need your help now?
See them boxing gloves over there?
Put them on, fam, and knock yourself out
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