By Myself (Remix)

[Verse 1: PuKe King] I'm a diamond in the rough, getting hit by the clubs Like my name was fucking Seal but I deny the up- Coming rise to fame, I never rose from the grey But keep the petals on my bed and hope for decay I'm a mess I uh, don't know what my name is But I'm pretty sure if I did I'd make it famous Downloading mixtapes just to read the playlists And this is how I'm supposed to know who makes hits These days, the radio sounds like the same shit Rapper French kissing, all I hear is the same spit Different teeth, different tense, same style, same beat All you gun slingers, you're fucking 8 G And this ain't the Middle East, you're from East London You never hustled for your jewels, dude you mum did How you acting hard with a name like Spencey Come back when your voice breaks and bet me (bitch) [Hook: PuKe King] I can't sell out til I buy myself And I'm never really happy when I'm by myself If I saw me in the streets I'd walk by myself But I'm taking this nation by myself [Verse 2: RaDaKiS] If your life is a bitch then my bitch looks better Than your's I'm a rebel without the cause No employee, shit cos I handle myself like a boss No brick but your chick worship me like a man of the cross Never been religious but always believed in me So I'mma get the game on lock, and then leave the key The best rapper alive, exactly what I breathe to be And if you're blind to the fact then I'mma go and make you see And feel something that you never felt before PuKe got the flow that makes ears melt, for sure See I'm talking more like an inferno The type of shit you can't write cos it burns the journal [Verse 3: PuKe King] You see the fact is I'll get better with practice We'll see where your ass is when I'm hotter than matches PuKe's slept on like mattresses I'm mad as rabbits is Rabbid from the fact I get fuelled by all your garages I'm Sick nice to meet you my name is PuKe King The vomit I induce proves the name suits him And I'm sick of the youth, the truth don't ring So the UK, that's you, k? Time to try new things It's shit like flurring, the current is blurring A melting pot of selling hot and being left stirring Or stranded, you're handed a piece of the fan-ship Sent packing with the packs of fags and piss, to stand in Gasp in, inhale the stale and behold the pale Who make it on stage but are dicks when hailed And that ship's since sailed, talk is redundant How's this the UK when all I hear is London Town? (Fuck that)