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 cla** 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 Umm… 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 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 f**ers 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 I'm a rap god, rap god It isn't all that difficult to rap fast… is it?