[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)