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
