Fighting Trousers - Professor Elemental

Dear Sir, regarding your recent foray

Into the rap business and the scene you portray

See I don’t normally approve of war games

But «He's biting you» is what they all say

And by Harry, they might be right--

This is hip hop, not an Elvis night!

Shelve this Professor impersonation

Let it end now, it’s impertinent waiting!

You seem a reasonable chap, what you need to do is rap

But not parody chap hop

Cause that’s not proper, just not cricket!

Put away your ukulele or I’ll tell where to stick it!

(hook)

I — Don’t like your tweed, sir!

Will — Teach you the professor’s ready!

Not — Let’s see who strikes the loudest!

Lose — Put on my fighting trousers!

I’ve got super producers and fans that play me

You’ve got a granddad’s mustache and a ukulele

Don’t look around sir, I’m speaking to you

Roll up your shirt sleeves, Queensbury rules

Never test professors with the cleverest wits

Let’s settle this like gentlemen: armed with heavy sticks

On a rotating plate, with spikes like Flash Gordon

And you’re Peter Duncan;

I gave you fair warning

When this George Formby clone is performing

Audiences go home before he begins talking

A new career might be more rewarding

I’m a bright Brighton peer, you’re rap’s Piers Morgan

(hook)

I’m not seeing you at ciphers or workshops with kids or gigs

Dear sir, you’re not worthy of this!

Sold out to Coca-Cola

Used for a trend

And that means you’re banned

From using a pen

Hope it’s safe to assume you won’t do this again

Set foot on my stage and get ruined again

Be out, Mr. B, I’ve set the egg timer

There’s not room in town for two gentlemen rhymers

Leave town by the end of this instrumental

Yours, et cetera, et cetera, sincerely, and so forth

Professor Elemental

(hook)