[Verse 1]

Yo, yo, what?

My rapping pedigree you'll never be, I'm steadily growing

You can hear it when I'm flowing, so can I so why you telling me?

Say I'm one of God's heavenly creatures, big facial features

I'm flowing like some pensioners with broken urethras

They're having a stress, see I'm pissing out these lyrics like my bladder's a mess

And you had to confess, yes, you're very impressed

"He's the finest Elliot since Eliot Ness"

And you'd never have guessed that I'd be one of the fighters

Surprises to rise from a scene where they don't pay attention to guys

Who ain't living a crisis or been running advice

Almost gave up cause I felt like I needed a license or something to rap

Then I realised there's guys who've been shot who were crap

When it comes to performing, I'm storming your stage

With the rage of a bear that's escaped from its cage

And ignoring the pricks that just moan, throwing sticks and the stones

Who just sit there at home and assume that a label will call em, applaud em

Arrive on their doorstep and sign them and shit

It takes pure hard graft, mate, you're having a laugh and a half

So have a bath, Herbal Essence your mindset

Polish your rhymes, yep, you're lacking in style

Me? I'm sticking out my neck like a fucking giraffe

[Hook x2]

I'm just rapping for the sake of it, what you make of it?

Usually I try and make a hit, so now you think I'm making shit?

Maybe it's the fact you're simply thinking fucking hell

It's a song about nothing, still he does it fucking well

[Verse 2]

Everybody looking for a piece of the pie

But the pie said goodbye and I'll be fighting for scraps

So I tightened the straps on my belt, hit the tarmac

Finished the last lap, my very first season in rap

There's reason to clap in the time that's elapsed

I've been haps but I still ain't achieved what I wanted so back

To the lab for a snack cause like Andy McNab

There's more raw stories to tell

Go the distance like Phileas Fogg

Rapping back of the net shit like I'm Didier Drog

And in the silliest fog, you still see me coming

Get attention, like Lily Allen's MySpace blog

I'm chatting still, rapping ill, packing skills

Bring the party like a bag of pills

Standing on top of the hill

Never tumbling down like Jack and Jill or a wagon wheel

Spitting fire, you could say I know how a dragon feels

Twenty quid eBay, my mixtape shifts for the kids

And it ain't even mixed by a DJ

Better with age, it's a fact bro

You've gotten worse over the years like Westwood's rap show

Put a finishing touch like who does the peaches

You can't reach this, I'm top shelf material

Deary, oh, deary old me

Cheerio to the old lot, hallo EG

[Hook x2]

It's a song about nothing, still he does it fucking well

[Sample from Dazed and Confused]