Rapping in Waitrose

[Verse 1: MC Hammersmith]
Rapping in Waitrose yeah that's credibility
Call me Ocado 'cause I got fresh delivery
Looking hella stylish turning rappers to ashes
Got that sweet drip, pomegranate molasses
Rappers hating on me yeah, I feel it in my belly
It's not gourmet cat food but these pussies getting jelly
Bred jealous I've spelt it, you sourdough boule
Think my rhymes ain't cultured, you're a gooseberry fool
I ain't making cheddar, I'm producing burrata
I'll shrivel your plums like a sun-dried tomata
Got that hearty spice, cauliflower satay
You're a paste-y lightweight, reduced fat pate
My free-range sausage ladies wanna examine
You're boneless, just like this wild red salmon
I don't need weed, essential kale's my passion
Only joint I'll be smoking is this kilo of gammon
Sweet piccalilli, my rapping's kinda dope
Your bars put me to sleep, chamomile soap
Gun in my hand, you better be screamin'
Cotton flower ironing water, 'cause my metal be steamin'
Food here so fresh, it's just gorgeous my G
No tight trousers but it's all organ-i-c
Bring your girl to Waitrose, says it looks incredible
Your chickpeas herself, yeah, she's a houmous-sexual

[Outro: MC Hammersmith ]
Hey
Go on, get out
No rapping in Waitrose
Rule number one, go on
I'm sorry I was just trying to...
Yeah, this is a smooth jazz supermarket
You take that shit to Aldi motherfu-