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