They call him a Scot
'Cus of the pattern on his socks
With meat on his plate
He will eat the whole lot
He's a jack of all trades
A master of none
'Cus say what you want
That man eats a good cunt
He's a Boujee kind of guy
Yeah, he's a bourgeoisie kind of man
But he's hell in a Waitrose bag
Packed full of money that he got from his dad
He's hell in a Waitrose bag
He's hell
Not quite a man
He's a boy in a band
The king of all cocks
But my god he writes jams
Pulls you in close says
Don't you know?
It counts as a yes
If they don't say no
So I don't ask, just give them the show
Consent is for arseholes, if you know just know
But he's hell in a Waitrose bag
Packed full of money that he got from his dad
He's hell in a Waitrose bag
He's hell
He's hell
My old man says
It's alright to be a monster
Most of the time he says
We're going to die
Might as well get it in
Yeah you might as well
Get it fucking in