One Two Three Four Now I'm in town, break it down, thinking of making a new sound Playing a different show every night in front of a new crowd That's you now, ciao, seems that life is great now See me lose focus as I sing to you loud I can't, no, I won't hush I'll say the words that make you blush I'm gonna sing this now See, I'm true, my songs are where my heart is I'm like glue I stick to other artists I'm not you, now that would be disastrous Let me sing and do my thing and move to greener pastures See, I'm real, I do it all, it's all me I'm not fake, don't ever call me lazy I won't stay put, give me the chance to be free Suffolk sadly seems to sort of suffocate me You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you at all You need me I sing and write my own tune and I write my own verse hell Don't need another wordsmith to make my tunes sell Call yourself a singer-writer, you're just bluffing Your name's on the credits and you didn't write nothing I sing, fast, I know that all my shit's cool I will blast and I didn't go to Brit school I came fast with the way I act, right I can't last, if I'm smoking on a crack pipe And I won't be a product of my genre My mind will always be stronger than my songs are Never believe the bullshit that fake guys feed to ya Always read the stories that you hear in Wikipedia Musically I'm demonstrating When I perform live, feels like I am meditating Times at the enterprise when some fella filmed me A young singer writer like a Gabriella Cilmi You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you at all You need me All I want in this cold world is to make music and use it Not to abuse it and get affected, infected with the who's who of music Who did it, who is it, who's in it or what the hell does it matter? Chitter chatter, don't matter what a yidder, yidder, yadder, it don't matter to me All I want is a bit of dignity in me to battle this industry freely To be me in this seedy, needy world, can you hear me? Hey, so I keep singing that When I first started this rapping shit I felt pressure from haters Became invaded with sadists and just developed a hater radar And made for the stars, kept my grind in the dark And then appeared with a remedy kicking rhymes with a melody Hennesey shots and Glocks, all these fools on the block Who said you gotta be a gangster now to raise to the top? I'm just a normal, casual, usual, everyday type of guy Coming ready to die Coming ready to die Ed Sheeran, Alonestar coming now here freestyling with a guitar coz I’ve forgotten the lyrics so this bit right here so I freestyle off the top of the next -- and You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub Mummy I've got the X if you're into taking drugs Into having sex, I ain't into making love Come give me a hug if you're into getting rough You can find me in the club, Mummy I've got the X if you're into taking drugs Into having sex, I ain't into making love Come give me a hug if you're into getting rough You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man My eyes are red, I've been burning, I've been burning My eyes are red, I've been burning, I've been burning My eyes are red I've been burning, I've been burning on a spliff off your high grade My eyes are red I've been burning, I've been burning, burning Now where I come from burning weed it is a habit A big fat bag of high grade weed, you know I got to have it Cos if I don't have it in my pocket I'm going to panic Cos like I said where I come from weed smoking is a habit Yup, we'll do da bun in the place up in the hood One of them things I have inherited like a ghetto man should One of them things is smoking weed it yes it makes me feel good Burning high grade sensimilla, yes it makes me feel But me is a man, ah, talk about sensimilla is a drug And if I start to smoke it I'm gonna turn into a thug Where I come from that they talking could that only get you mugged Where I come from burning weed it is a blessing from above Where I come from yes we bun it when we listen rub a dub Where I come from yes we bun after we just a make a love Where I come from yes we bun it when the sun starts shine I blaze high grade weed all the time! Now my eyes are red you need me, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red You need me man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red you need me, man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red You need me man, I don't need you You need me man, I don't need you Okay so this is the break now, we’re gonna get a little bit fun Ah. And now you forget about the whole week, You forget about the whole week and the whole weekend, Just forget about everything, Coz it’s Sunday. We’re all gonna get drunk afterwards, And have a very, very good time. And I’m not stressed anymore, We just lay it off on wine. I wanna spilt the room, in the middle here. Who’s off for that? Yea Not..not literally, you don’t have to literally parted, it’s all good. All good. Peace and love, peace and love with others. What I was gonna say: This side, Up there, are you with me? This side, up there, are you with me? Everyone, scream as loud as you can. ..Okay, so we found out that everybody’s voices works. This side, you are West Ham, Okay? You are West Ham F.C. This side, you are Millwall, yeah? You two, you two hate each other. You two are gonna beat each other at whatever you do. No matter what. So, if I give you something to sing, you have to sing louder than them. if I give you something to sing, you have to sing louder than them. You all up for that? Millwall, are you ready? West Ham, are you ready? Okay, West Ham, you sing: You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you You need me, man, I don't need you Millwall, you sing: my eyes are red You need me man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red you need me, man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red you need me, man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red you need me, man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red you need me, man, I don't need you you need me, man, I don't need you you need me, man, I don't One Two I seem to find myself talking to the powers that be Awaking the shade and shadowed under towering trees Admiring the scene, inhaling fumes of flowers that breathe. Jet-lagged eyes are begging for an hour to sleep Although my blood shot whites and irises they never find any Clock stops at times where the sunshine can blind many Although my eyes are heavy, they won't be closing soon Cause I heard that time waits for nobody, I suppose it's true We make corrosive tunes through acid tabs and vocables To see the flashing lights at photo shoots, we make our motive moves I say whatever I feel to vent a rhyme So I can still invent the lines and stay close to the friends of mine Cause real will recognise real" is what my father says And I'll be sticking to this phrase until I pass away Overworking, no sleep is just another way to die slow But I'll just keep going strong and never let my eyes close. You need me, I don’t need you You need me, man, I don’t need you I got my friend, very good friend and he’s gonna come up: ----- Coz You need me man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red You need me man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red You need me man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red You need me man, I don't need you You need me man, my eyes are red I keep my last name forever I keep my genre pretty basic I'm gonna be breaking in to other peoples tunes when I chase it And replace it with the elephant in the room with a facelift stepping into another rappers shoes using new laces I’m selling CDs from my rucksack, aiming for the papers Selling CDs from my rucksack, aiming for the majors Nationwide ‘till we just jack it’s easy to get the bus back Clean cut kid without a razor for the moustache I hit back, when the pen hurts me I’m still a choir boy in a Fenchurch tee I’m just the same as a year ago But more people hear me though According to the Myspace and YouTube videos I’m always doing shows if I’m not I’m in the studio Truly broke never growing up call me rufio Melody music maker Reading all the papers They say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator. Later Thank you! Thank you so much, see you soon.