He came into my gym once in Tenerife, strutting around like he owned the place, and I had to tell him, 'Out, mate! Get out of my gym.' He was giving it large, and I just thought, 'Nah, mate, don't come in here, giving it all large. Show me some proper respect.' He might have all those Mickey Mouse guys around him, licking his ass - 'Oh Nazeem, Nazeem!' - but he's not going to get that treatment from me. What a bunch of pricks! And then you see them carrying him into the ring like he's some kind of king and they're his slaves. Have some respect for yourself!

And then, after the last Collins fight, he comes out in the papers slagging me off, saying, 'You can break my legs and rip my arms off, but I would still come out fighting.' What a load of shit - try it on with me, and I will break your legs and rip your arms off and, at the end of the day, the public caned him for what he was saying. Maybe if he'd done half of what I'd done they'd have taken their hat off to him, but they all know! I've fought everybody, but Hamed hasn't had nearly the same calibre of opponents. Everyone knows that there are fighters out there who will annihilate him, and he's just avoiding them. If you're meant to be the best in the world, Nazeem, then go and fight some of the top Americans. Prove yourself, like I did. Then you can run your mouth off. But in the boxing fraternity, we all know that he's fighting nobodies.

When I saw him at the Brit Awards, I gave him a piece of my mind: 'Let me tell you now, I'll punch you up in the air, you little shit.' Does he reckon he wants to exchange punches with me? I'll screw him up into a little ball and throw him in the waste paper bin.