Yannick Bolasie sits in the autumn sunshine chatting over a burger and sweet potato fries. Alongside the Crystal Palace midfielder sits his long-time girlfriend, Kelsey, while their one-year-old son, Kaidy, toddles about, beaming and clutching a chip.

There is something refreshingly unflashy about the scene, about Bolasie. Born in Lyon to Congolese parents, the family moved to north-west London when he was a baby. He still lives in the area now. A modest house, hoodies and jeans, and a career path that saw him forge his way from non-league, via a season in Malta, all the way to the Premier League.

The 25-year-old says he learned some of his biggest life lessons being left on the shelf at Hillingdon Borough. One of those has been to stay grounded. Walking down the street now most would not recognise him as a Premier League footballer. He likes it that way. “I’m not going to try to live like Eden Hazard, for example,” he says. “That’s a totally different lifestyle. He’s gonna have a bigger house, a bigger this … You can get attracted too much to that side. And then you forget what you do best. Football.”

On an improved contract with Palace, Bolasie says he prefers to save money than spend it. “I’m still going to live off the same budget I had before. I’m not spending anything extra. I just put it in the bank … [whereas] a lot of people if they change salary they start doing different things and just get lost a little bit.”

This week Bolasie has been in the Democratic Republic of the Congo for the Africa Cup of Nations qualifier against Ivory Coast. If ever life in the Premier League does begin to distort reality, these trips bring him back down to earth with a bump. Budget airlines to Kinshasa, “old school” equipment to prepare for matches; Bolasie and the Peterborough defender Gabriel Zakuani joke about their international trips on Twitter and Instagram. But Bolasie, whose cousin is the DRC international Lomana LuaLua, also softens when he speaks about the problems facing the country where some of his family live.

“It’s a different kind of experience. You see people struggling, it’s humbling. We went to visit a girls’ school. It was built because there were so many rape cases of young women, they decided to give them education so they’re not exposed to those sort of things,” he says. He wants to take Kelsey and Kaidy out there to visit his family, but he recognises it is not an easy place to visit. “There’s a population where there’s no middle ground. You’re either poor or you’ve got money. There’s no in between.”

If football is Bolasie’s life, then music is his passion. Type Bolasie’s name into YouTube and you are as likely to find clips of his “Grime battles” with the New York Red Bulls striker Bradley Wright-Phillips as you are foot age of the winger’s dazzling runs. Bolasie grew up rhyming, he says, “from school days. It was either that or playing football in the playground”.

“I listen to [grime] before matches. In the car I’ll be rapping, the missus gets annoyed with it,” he says, with a grin. “Kaidy nods his head to it. Isn’t that right, Kaidy?” Kaidy grins adoringly, before working his way around the table and proudly offering up a half-chewed sweet potato fry. “Right now when I’m doing [music] a lot of people are taking more notice, but I’ve always been doing it. I guess the attention’s just come with the Premier League.”

Wright-Phillips and Bolasie met while playing for Plymouth in 2009 and became close friends, united in their love of MCing. They began messing about, leaving lyrics on each other’s voicemail, crying with laughter. And it wasn’t long before word got around. Their talent was picked up by the grime rapper and producer Jammer, who featured the friends ripping into each other on the recent DVD Lord of the Mics 6.

“Just ’cos you got Wright in your name, don’t mean that you’re a Gunner,” spits Bolasie, before launching a scathing attack on Wright-Phillips’ career. “Man will get left in the park like Ji-Sung … Looking bare eager couldn’t score goals in the Championship, that’s why he went down to League One – Brentford didn’t want him neither.”

The words prompt howls of laughter from the MCs crowded around Bolasie, filmed at a recent BBC 1Xtra recording. Wright-Phillips is just as merciless in his riposte: “About MC battle, you was in a relegation battle … you want beef? I’ll be carving cattle.” He also knows Bolasie’s sore points: “No goals? I feel so sorry for you …”

Bolasie nods. “I want to score goals,” he says, firmly. The winger went all of last season without scoring, and a recent goal against Everton was only his fourth in 79 league appearances for Palace. “Everyone says that’s the only part of my game that’s missing. Before I was a pro I used to score goals for fun. I want to bring that back into my game.”

With Bolasie, it is not just talk. He carries a notebook everywhere, in which he meticulously writes down everything he does in an effort to improve his game. “It’s got all my scores – how much hours I sleep, points for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, protein after training, refuelling.” How many points for a burger? “Er … nah, I wouldn’t get any points for that,” he says, laughing, “but there’s a points tally at the end of the week. You can trace it back. If you play good you can see where it’s come from.”

Bolasie says the programme, attributed to his trainer Rayan Wilson, has changed his body: from a beanpole to “a beast”.

But scoring goals is not just about physique. The Palace fans’ favourite tells of a psychological battle to overcome his fear of the net. “It’s the thought process, nothing else,” he says, quietly. “Last season I started panicking for no reason. You drain yourself out.”

It was Tony Pulis, the then Palace manager, who saved him. “He said: ‘Let me be the worrier.’ That’s why I’ve got a lot of time for Tony Pulis.” Was Bolasie sad when he left? “Yeah, a little bit. He’s the one that gave me a lot of confidence. He come in and told me to believe in myself. He kept telling me I’m a ‘top, top player’. Those exact words. And I’d laugh at it. I’d go: ‘Ha ha’. But he said: ‘No, I’m being serious.’” Had other managers ever spoken that way to him? “No. Not the way he did with me.

“I remember we played against Arsenal [last season] I beat [Nacho] Monreal with so much ease, [Mikel] Arteta was coming along and then I decided to put in a cross. The gaffer came in after and said: ‘You’re better than that. You’ve got much more pace and strength than Arteta. Knock it past him and get it in the box.’ From then I knew. Whatever he said to me was the truth. And Neil [Warnock]’s given me the same sort of confidence. Not to the same extent – with [Pulis] it was literally every single game he’d have a chat. But I think that brought the best out of me.”

If Pulis gave Bolasie a supportive ear, the return of Wilfried Zaha has provided the competitive edge. The pair get on well but they are hungry to outdo each other on the pitch. “It’s competitive all round, even in training. [I say] ‘Me and you! Competition! Let’s go!’” says Bolasie, gesticulating wildly. “We played each other five-a-side and I’m saying: ‘You can’t go past me.’ He’s saying: ‘Two years ago I gave you a nutmeg …’ I’m saying: ‘Leave that stuff. When you come against me, just pass it off, because you’re not getting past me.’ It just kicks off from there. It’s funny.”

Listening to Bolasie talk is fascinating. One minute he is a young guy, playfully cussing his friends, the next obsessively counting rest hours, or engaging in earnest discussion about his completed dribbles stats versus Premier League possession percentages (he made last season’s top five).

His agent, John Sorzano, says he is the smartest footballer he has ever worked with, a player who goes into financial meetings equipped with an understanding of spreadsheets, expenditure, tax and insurance. At home, says Kelsey, who is studying to be a bookkeeper, he is compulsive about housework. “The best Hooverer ever”, and constantly tidying up after his young son.

Bolasie smiles. A stickler for order and process, it cannot have been easy to go through four managers in two years at Palace, each time adapting to a different style of play.

“Everyone has their own philosophy,” he explains. “Ian Holloway played wingers higher up and then wanted us to come back and receive the ball; Dougie Freedman didn’t want us to come back too much because he wanted us to attack; Tony Pulis made the team sit back so it was literally you against the full-back.” And Warnock? “He hasn’t brought in his full philosophy yet because he wants to change things slowly. Which is good.”

How have the team pulled off a promotion and a second season in the Premier League with all that going on? “The spirit in the dressing room,” Bolasie says.

Kaidy starts to cry. His dad gives him a cuddle. Even when you finally reach the top, Bolasie acknowledges, football is not easy. Becoming a parent, though, has brought perspective.

He will need it. Palace will have to work hard to maintain their status beyond this second season. Their campaign continues at Chelsea on Saturday, where Bolasie will be keen to add to the winning goal he scored at Goodison Park. If he does not, he can expect another voicemail from Bradley Wright-Phillips.