[Intro]

Boom, bam, Young Drilly

Ain't it funny that the fascists are claimin' they're no longer racist?

But we still know you're classist

How 'bout that?

[Hook: Drillminister]

Man can't tell me 'bout UK Drill, try tell me that the sound is niche

When the bourgeoisie so classist, skeng got love for the nouveau riche

Imagine you just got sanctioned, no more p's comin' from, UC

Make man start flingin' out tantrums, shoutin' at opps just like MPs

'Cause the wage gap's comin' like Apprentice

Got man lookin' like Made in Chelsea

Where the poor can't finish their sentence

Got man dreamin' 'bout cribs and Bentleys

The road life got control of my soul

And the money on road can't tempt me

The Bank of England makin' austerity cuts when they know there's plenty

[Verse 1: Drillminister]

Come to the ends, see government failures benefit street load trailers

Nittie's at the end of the road in sliders, toenails lookin' like Quavers

Man's seen more dark and light than Vegas

Crimes don't see no papers

Bailiffs takin' beds and trainers, probably some gold for saviours

Ain't seen no positive post put out by the underclass in a while

That's probably why the poor man took his life gettin' mocked on Jeremy Kyle

'Cause Britain ain't got no conscience

Since London riots man clocked that nonsense

A fourteen year old boy got knocked out clean by the boydems truncheons

Hittin' him hard like payday loans

Got the interest goin' up constant

And Mummy ain't made no money from work

Since the robots made her redundant

Education comin' like a boxing ring

Wanna win, gotta pull your punches

And you wonder why man go county lines?

Cah the youtes, dem know we're conscious

[Hook: Drillminister]

Man can't tell me 'bout UK Drill, try tell me that the sound is niche

When the bourgeoisie so classist, skeng got love for the nouveau riche

Imagine you just got sanctioned, no more p's comin' from, UC

Make man start flingin' out tantrums, shoutin' at opps just like MPs

'Cause the wage gap's comin' like Apprentice

Got man lookin' like Made in Chelsea

Where the poor can't finish their sentence

Got man dreamin' 'bout cribs and Bentleys

The road life got control of my soul

And the money on road can't tempt me

The Bank of England makin' austerity cuts when they know there's plenty

[Verse 2: Drillminister]

Come to the ends, see affluence

Private school boys dressed in blazers

If nobody on my road's on the Forbes list

That's more shock than tasers

Hundred pound tip for the waiters

Poverty? What's that? A brand new fragrance?

Man make some investments

Real estate, Bitcoin, LIBRA, don't do favours

Neighbourhood watch 'cause my yard looks pricey

And my antiques look icy

Man paid that inheritance tax

If the tax man ask then the rest is vapours

They said that it's bad for the poor

But the Brexit ting's gonna lose man wages

We're losin' at different stages, one man Z and one man's A-list

'Cah Britain ain't got no workin' class

Rename that with slavery

Man's cookin' up business deals like Ainsley payin' no tax in Jersey

Man try sue man for infringement

Lawyer's gonna make sure the case is dirty

'Cah man's in Harrods, I'm tryna cop LV, Tom Ford, Prada and Burberry

[Outro]

See that message right there?

That's a message for all of us

Yo Fraser, keep my vocal runnin'

I want 'em to know that nobody's perfect

Any mistake I make, keep it in

I want 'em to know nobody's perfect

Not your politicians, not your leaders

No-one