[Verse 1]
Never been a fellow to be down with the G’s
Hardly ever collect felonies out on the street
My criminal record took minimal effort
To scribble and get all it down on a sheet
Me, I can do without the police
See, I’m a dude renowned to be tedious
No pissing about, I’m serious
I really just sit around on a seat
Read a book, put it down, have a wee
Til I feel I’ve had enough then I slouch in my PJs
These days when I’m counting my sheep
It takes me ages drowsing to sleep
Feel I’m thousands of feet out of my league
Like a floundering dinghy down in the deep
People shouting at me I’m not allowed on a beat
But there’s four times more that’ll tell me I’m sweet
Found my release when I bought me a mic
And recorded a tight lyric down on a beat
With the sound so loud that the speakers melt with the heat
Cos’ I’m Dan to the B, 1 2 I’m counting to three
Then I want you to bounce to the beat
From the North to the West to the South to the East
We can all get well rowdy
I oughtn’t lie, I mean demographically
There’s a hypothesis I support that I am the
More privileged in all of society
Quite unlike the baller I try and be
I was born in a nice region
And brought up politely
So I was taught to mind my P’s and Q’s
And make way for OAPs in queues
I’m a decent dude, peaceful too
But on a beat I speak with lethal truth
This sequel to my debut album’s a way to tell them the good news
That I’m a middle class kid from the midlands
Less “Safe” more like “How You Diddling”
I’m like a polo without the middle in
More whole than the hole to fill it in
Though I’m a bitter kid, just a little bit
Bringing mint lyrics but no-one’s listening
But I’m in the zone, coveting the throne
Not going to give it in
Gloves coming off and I’m boxing until I win
Watch when I’m in the ring
Roundhouse my doubts, popping them in the chin
Plot thickening along with the smoke
But I’m not going to choke
I’ve got Ventolin
Like when I kicked my bong and it broke
It allowed me the freedom to breathe the air again
And now that I’m clean
And the songs that I wrote then are out and they’re seen
I am proud to be me
You could tell when I’d been chilling out with some weed
I couldn’t leave the house, you could smell the febreze
Now an evening in town I’m a demon
Downing indecent amounts of Ribena
Til I’m down on my knees and in pieces
Weeping, shouting “Help me, please”
But when I’m having doubts about my belief
I just tell myself that I’m proud to be me
My CD won’t get me a mortgage
That’s because you pricks haven’t bought it
Five pound and you couldn’t afford it?
Just copped the download and ignored it
I believe in the scene as much as I believe OJ Simpson was innocent
Been a bit of a geek holed up
And now the whole scene’s looking at me but hold up
I’m going to the mountain
When I come back I’ll be ten times better
Backpack on my back like I’m going on an outing
I’m not going on an outing
I’m going to the mountain
I’m going to the mountain again
Cos’ I’ve got to top my last album, impress the doubters again
And at this rate it won’t be out till 3010
So you can smile for a while but know when I’m back from the mountain
You’re going to hear the sound of a mentalist lyricist crowned as the best
For now I’m allowing the stress
Messing around doing an impression and sounding like Ghetts
Down on the best track to ever spin around in your decks
I’m bound to impress with the rowdiest set coming louder than jets
Going over your head to the mountain again, I’m putting in a thousand percent
[Interlude]
Um, I've forgotten the lyrics to the next bit so bear with me
I got them here, pop 'em up on the screen to remind myself
Ahh, this bit's good, this bit's good

[Verse 2]
I ain’t mastered my craft yet
But the more time in the mountain, the better the tracks get
Improvement’s the key
What I do with the beats
Leaves you with a completely snapped neck
I’ll do rap til I take my last breath
Whether or not I’m getting a fat cheque
I vent my thoughts with a black pen, record
Then you’re all like “Did you hear what Dan said?”
No metaphor, that man’s stressing more than Ghetts
And that takes some doing
I’m boiling up the frustration brewing
Making you and your mates listen to it
It’s amazing the way that I do it
I hate to ruin your fun
But you and your dumb crew aren’t making the grade
Improve it
Elevation? Been there, done it
I planted my flag at the summit
Stood astride the mountain
The tiger’s crouching, now the dragon is coming
You ragamuffins standing for nothing
Your standard of stanzas is rubbish
I’m standing above at the foot of the mountain
I’m rambling up, any fuckers are doubting
I hand them a pounding
Hand me a bucket, it’s chucking it down sick
Look around, prick
You wanted something that sounds sick?
You’ve found it
Haven’t got to dumb it down
Ignorant listeners are gonna tell I got it down to a T
Who’s putting in the work like a Sherpa up a mountain?
It’s me
[Outro]
I’m a rap god, rap god
It isn’t all that difficult to rap fast, is it?