Skepta - Knock Yourself Out lyrics

Skepta, daniel son Boy Better Know The hardest!!! Listen, the ladies call me the Royal Mail Cuz I got the total package f**in em in Buckingham palace I'm up my own pasage f** them human beings, Im on my own planet You an*s, I'm famous So ironically, I've got love for my haters f** 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 [Hook:] 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 n***a 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 [Hook:] 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 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 bumbaclart [?] ting Manaman's rolling with a six [Hook:] 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