When Tinie Tempah high-fived Prince William at the Baftas, he thought his week couldn’t improve.

Then he was welcomed to the stage at the Brit Awards with Fearne Cotton, his co-presenter for British Breakthrough Act award, as “the Posh and Becks of presenting”.

“I’ve not yet recovered,” the 25-year-old London-born rapper jokes when we chat a few days after the February event to pick through his second record, Demonstration.

“I’m holding on til the weekend. Everything this week was amazing. From that Bafta performance to the Brits – it’s been crazy.”

And being compared to Becks?

“Fearne called us that and it was very sweet,” he adds, diplomatically, “it would be for any bloke to be compared to him.”

The boy with Nigerian blood – named Patrick Okogwu by his parents – burst into the mainstream four years ago after cutting his teeth in the capital’s grime scene.

His first mixtape, for the Aftershock Hooligans, arrived in 2005. The double platinum-selling debut solo record Disc-Overy debuted at number one five years later.

That same year he sang his debut number one Pass Out with Snoop Dogg on Glastonbury’s Pyramid Stage.

“Snoop Dogg is hip-hop,” declares Tinie. “He is everything it says on the tin. I think for Americans hip-hop is more of a cultural thing. It’s what they live and breathe.”

The Londoner says the main differences between UK and US hip-hop are the sounds and the accents. “Everything else is similar. A lot of acts in the UK are from similar types of background. Maybe in the US it is slightly more extreme because of the projects, but we share the ambition to break out, to be able to have things, to have a better quality of life.”

Work-wise, Tempah’s up there with the Americans. His dedication to Demonstration meant that even after three years’ recording, the sessions still overran and he cancelled last December’s tour.

“Is it difficult? The work definitely is.

My mum always jokes, ‘Imagine if you were working regular shifts, 9 to 5’, but then I’d be able to have breaks. Still, you get out whatever you put in. At times I was in the studio from 9pm till 9am then had to go to do promotion work at 11am.”

Then there’s the fame, which you might expect Tinie, with his slick suits, fashion label and easy manner, to slide effortlessly into.

“On paper it’s something everyone would want, but would you be able to deal with people invading your privacy, having to pre-plan walking to your front door?

“If you wanna go to a restaurant, you have to think about it that much more. If I’m seen with someone it’s a problem. Someone even put pictures of me out with my parents on Twitter. We just wanted a regular meal like everyone else.”

If it’s speculation about whom he might be dating then he can’t say he doesn’t fuel the fire.

Don’t Sell Out features the lines, “Been around the world and ladies love me and my London accent”, and “Trying to get fellatio from girls as fresh as Daisy Lowe”.

Has she come back to you on that one?

“She called me cheeky for sure,” he jokes. “I expected for it to be much worse.”

The list of contributors and collaborators on Demonstration reads like a who’s who of recent UK pop: Labrinth, Ella Eyre, Naughty Boy, Emeli Sandé, Chase & Status, Dizzee Rascal and Laura Mvula.

“All the big stars end up in London and there are only so many stars in London doing things that are current and relevant. All it takes is one festival to meet everyone.”

Together with his pals, his aim for Demonstration was to show he can do more than grime pop with a club twist, to make a “manual for transcending grime”. Lover Not A Fighter is Daft Punk meets grime. Mosh Pit looks back to the old days. Children Of The Sun is arms-in-the-air disco sugar. Witch Doctor throws dub and blues into the mix.

“It’s opening people up to other sides of Tinie,” he says, “There are other sides and other things I want to talk about. This one requires a deeper listen.”