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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Kano
Kano
Performer
Mikey J
Mikey J
Lead Vocals
Beni G
Beni G
Scratches
Fraser T. Smith
Fraser T. Smith
Guitar
Josh Garza
Josh Garza
Drums
Leo "Bubba" Taylor
Leo "Bubba" Taylor
Drums
Paul Epworth
Paul Epworth
Guitar
S. FInch
S. FInch
Trumpet
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Asantè
Asantè
Songwriter
Robinson
Robinson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Joe Fields
Joe Fields
Mixing Engineer
Mikey J
Mikey J
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I couldn't give a fuck about your reputation
I'm the star from the top like Christmas decorations
And me merking you right now that's my estimation
Dedication plus patience equals elevation
Get your voice on any station
Why you waiting?
Why waste time debating fucking around and raving
Late night time I'm in the studio slaving
8 nights a week too many days in
That's when you see me with a beard fuck shaving
I'm tired of rhyming but I am a
Pain in the backside, your plan backfired
You can look up anyone that's tried
They can't merk me never that, that's right
It's not that season nor that time
I ain't boasting but I am that type
So shut your noise and gimme that mic
Heard the beat and I was like gimme that mic
And I wrote some fucked lyrics that night
I'm on point no falling behind
It's all in the music its all in the mind
What you call it, garage? What you call it, grime?
Call it what you wanna call it, I'm fine
But rhyme-wise I got a short order of mine
Doogz, Dee, Wiley, Ghetto, these have got new flows all the time
[Verse 2]
Testing mic check, 1 2
So-and-so called your name
So what's new, fuck him
Fuck them, fuck you
If they want to clash me I would love to
[Verse 3]
Hello who is this? Who are you?
There's beef on Deja, it's going off on the roof
Shut up, what now? What crew? What, Nasty?
Nah
Fuck you!
[Verse 4]
My flows big, big, big I spit hits kid
Big tings rude-boi, I'm done with this shit
Quick, quick, quick, the shit click
Click and i'll be like "swift put the stick to his ribs"
He's rich, rich, rich, take that shit
You win some, you lose some son, life is a bitch, bitch, bitch
Ain't that a bitch?
Oh well, bad luck, piss, piss, piss
I was born to be rich
Santa knows I had money on my Christmas list
And when you get some comes chicks
Then all of your texts end in a kiss, kiss, kiss
Hi, hug kiss, kiss that how they greet me
All because I flow ill like a sickness, I'm a sick kid
But when I spit hot shit I'm on fire, but I'm a big blitz
[Verse 5]
Testing mic check, 1 2
So-and-so called your name
So what's new, fuck him
Fuck them, fuck you
If they want to clash me I would love to
[Verse 6]
Hello who is this? Who are you?
(There's beef on Deja, it's going off on the roof)
Shut up, what now? What crew? What, Nasty?
Nah
Fuck you!
Written by: Asantè, Robinson
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