Nouveau Riche

Lyrics

[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