Microphone check yo, yo

Ah man

Let′s talk about naturallyThis one this- you know what

No hype, no ad-libs, nothing yeah

They say I've fallen off

Mum says she′s the happiest parent in the world

I know what I care about

You get me? Skepta, Boy Better Know

This one goes out to my haters

I would hate me too

If I had the same MySpace views as you

If I saw Skepta go from sitting on the wall

To sitting in a white V6 coupe

I think I'm the best and I call it competitve confidence

Not Vanity

It's not my fault them man have got a childish mentality

And they don′t know how to make a tune for the mainstream, radio, roadman

And the stageshow at the same time

Watch what too many man and sunglasses at night do in two-double-o-nine

Let me tell you why I′m the king of grime

You write a hundred million different flows

I write that classical line to last me my whole life time

No chorus

You get me?

This one's a zoners

Lookin′ out the window, appreciating being Joseph

And as long as I'm me, and you′re you, I'm the best

I wouldn′t like me either

If I had a flow like yours that left no space for a breather

Then Skepta comes around

With a flow that breaks down

More times then a P reg Vauxhall Tiva

To book Skepta ain't getting no cheaper

But promoters still want me to feature

Your sitting at home telling yourself the shit weed your smoking is a creeper

It's not creeping

Stop lying to yourself fam you might as well have bought Sisha

I′m too real nobody realer

Too deep nobody deeper

Flow like Gus call me the street sweeper

Danger, madness, all my Boy Better Know family

Do your stuff, don′t watch no face

You get me? More money more haters

Everyone's talking, talking, talking

Ah Rolex Sweep, Sunglasses at Night

Them man ain′t real, that's a joke ting cuz

Man has never been bad up in the music ting, yeah?

Them man come out their yard

Put their hoods on, sit behind tinted windows

Call them self roadman

Imagine if I gave them my face for one day

Shit their self, wouldn′t even come out their yard

About victim

You think I rap way too fast and your thinking this grime thing ain't the in ting

But you know what? I hear that killer

But don′t mistake me for that nigga

I get mad when I think this ting's got me spitting with people like Boya and Saskilla

Look right

It's not what it looks like

I stay with the gang live a good life

I used to shot grams on a push bike

But I wern′t a brand name like Suge Knight

I took time I kept a low profile I had the food that made that cats go wild

Before music I had a booming line

Blud, ask T-Mobile

Trust me

One cat buying food off me in this window, another cat buying food off President T on the driver′s side

Hold tight President T yeah, real nigga, get me?

Back in the day, doing this ting, in the whip

Singing, "o seven nine o four, triple one two four two will feed your whole crew"

You get me, hold tight Jme my brother doing his ting

Send out to the real Boy Better Know fans, yeah

That's been with us on the journey, send out to the fake Boy Better Know fans, yeah?

Everybody who likes this, come this way, everybody who likes that, go that way, yeah?

Solo four five, ′09, this one's called

This one′s called, "Reflecting", yeah, Skepta