You can't rap, my friend, you're white and you're from Fulham Please put down the mic, there's no way you can fool them Don't be stupid, you won't get that far Turn your back on Hip Hop, bro, and go and play guitar Of all the possibilities I ever coulda chosen Supposing career wise I'd picked Hip Hop Imagine all the tip top rapper's bottom lips drop Sitting there shocked that some other bloody shit hot Dude with a mullet, bussin shorts, wearing flip flops Is spitting to a gathering looking like a criss cross Of fans loving Prodigy, Kylie and Slipknot Nearly coulda happened bro, look at me, I shit not Little Elliot rhymes for the hell of it If only he was ghetto mans, maybe we would sell a bit I tried hard to dig up the credentials Even thought about putting gold in my dentals An Anglo Saxon with a broken accent But rappers from Fulham get a strange reaction I said bye to Rap, saw the issue at hand Some guitar lessons later, formed my own band You can't rap, my friend, you're white and you're from Fulham Please put down the mic, there's no way you can fool them Don't be stupid, you won't get that far Turn your back on Hip Hop, bro, and go and play guitar Attention seeking, how far should a man go? Cut his ear off like Vincent Van Gogh Dash cash to the crowd so the venue scrambles Turn my good life into a baby shambles Fuck myself up real properly like Pete Doherty Cover of heat, I'm hot property Everybody's clocking me, I own the crowd Then I gotta link me up with a girls aloud Next, exchange vows now my pop's is proud There's a nine on my cloud, I'm as pleased as I ever been, bro Mans flash like Jose Mourinho Women crave me like bottles of pinot Now I've got big I can fight photographers Bang the obvious, please biographers Spend currency 'til there ain't none left And when I need more I'll fake my own death You can't rap, my friend, you're white and you're from Fulham Please put down the mic, there's no way you can fool them Don't be stupid, you won't get that far Turn your back on Hip Hop, bro, and go and play guitar Right now it's just hit and miss, soon I'll taste a bit of bliss Banging chicks at worst with looks like Jayne Middlemiss Never doing hideous, it's too bad for business I spin when they grin with skin like Darth Sidious Never out-riddle this, all chattin' gibberish Verbal diarrhea so you're never getting rid of this I hear your retorts, there's all sorts like liquorice I can sense your bitterness, you wishing you written this You can't rap, my friend, you're white and you're from Fulham Please put down the mic, there's no way you can fool them Don't be stupid, you won't get that far Turn your back on Hip Hop, bro, and go and play guitar