She say she wanna get up on that rapper shit
Popping bottles stuffing money under mattresses
She been on that tour bus since I picked her up at Hammersmith
Her arse so round I thought it had to be a camera trick
Eh where you going in them Izzy Marants
Hop on a plane come and chill with me and Dizzee in France
Hop on a train you can come to any city you want
I got the fame you could be on Nicole Bitchie tomorrow
Couldn’t never love a lippy yat
But she got me acting like a pussy for that kitty cat
Reverse cow girl reverse piggy back
I thought you said your arse was mine come and gimme that
Witch doctor woman x8
She said she wanna get in on that rapper shit
She wanna polish the awards up in my cabinet
She a ten she defy the law of averages
Thought she Catholic but that Rihanna tat in Arabic
Where you going in that pretty Givenchi Dress
I’ll intro you to Westwood buy you Vivienne’s garms
The alcohol that she ingests just hope her liver ain’t harmed
I bring her flowers but she says she want a stickier plant
From trips on a bus now she’s on a trip and a buzz
When lighting strikes wonder if God is taking pictures of us
We finally made it on our own through all the hicks and the cups
Maybe some magic came and cured this fucking sickness in us
Keep it running
From not giving a fuck
Now she’s in her giving a fuck
I made her feel like Lewis Hamilton was picking her up
Don’t even mind the other groupies and the strippers and stuff
No time to waste might as well face it you’re addicted to love
’cause I am sick
What you prescribing
Give me a fix
Sip on a cocktail of lots of shit we shouldn’t mix
Yeaah