Waistcoat! British Man In America Lyrics

What's up motherf*ckers?
British man in America homies
You arseholes drive on the wrong side of the road
You refrigerate your eggs
What the f*ck is wrong with you American bastards?

I'm a rich British arse in Hollywood
Out of touch?
No bloody good
I blow my money at Gucci on useless shit
Abs like art
Six pack fit
La lasses wear too much slap
f*ck Sephora
You look like crap
La lads are too dressed down
f*ck Old Navy
I ain't no clown

A tourist bloke said today
Hey local
Is Beverly Drive this way?
I said f*ck you
I wore a waistcoat to ihop
Yankee no
I'm a man of style
Burberry tie
Socks argyle
f*ck fake teeth
Crooked smile
10, 000 pounds in my pocket
They stole my car
I forgot to lock it
Aston Martin
I can buy another
Bad rap songs made me rich motherf*cker

Get laid as I drink earl grey
I'm hardcore
Drink tea all day
I say yes
You say yeah
I say no
You say nah
Don't get no sun
Skin like a ghost
La people tan like toast
Bob Barker called
He wants his look back
I rap hip hop
But never sold crack

I don't do drugs
I only drink
I make fresh juice at the sink
Weed is something you find by flowers
Pesticides remove weeds in hours
I'm British and read books and shit
You could say I love English lit
Shakespeare, Dickens, Tolkien, Dahl
I read my books at the mall
My Yankee girlfriend eats whitefish salad She wants me to sing a f*cking ballad
I'm like no bitch
I'm a f*cking rebel
Turn up the bass
Turn down the treble

I order fish and chips
And your chips are crisps
My favourite soup is tomato bisque
f*cking baked beans at breakfast
Get pissed at pubs
Get pissed at pubs
My ex gave David Beckham a back rub
Broke up with that bitch
Broke up with that bitch

American football is for little girls
Shit nfl blokes wear tights for ballet twirls
Real men watch Manchester City
And cry when goals fail
And shit gets gritty
Your remake of The Office sucked major balls
Your nba stars are too f*cking tall

I eat bangers and mash
So rich I always pay in cash
Mortgage rates are too high
American markets might crash
When I take off my pants
I mean undies not trousers
And I take off both really fast
Don't want no trouble with bobbies
That's why I don't buy crack
I use a fork and knife
My own manners are on track
f*ck American cider
Where's the alcohol bitch?
Got tired of that shit really quick

Bought new clothes today after breakfast
Rodeo Drive
The he bitch salesman was like
Can I show you these Nike suburbia dad clothes in your size?
I said f*ck you
I wore a waistcoat to ihop
Gah
f*cking pleb
I'm British
I don't dress down in all this shit that you're selling
Gah
What is the matter with you?

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