Wicked

[Intro: Sam Wise & Amaarae]

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked

Mad

Positive vibrations, good vibes all the time, all the way, you know (Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr)

Love, love, love, love

Juls, baby

[Verse 1: Sam Wise]

She has a problem communicating what she means

Bad when she on her knees

Bad with the replies 'cah her time ain't free (Bad)

I don't even blame her

Yeah, I know how it be, see (You know)

No stress 'cah when she link me

She gwarn like freak (Freak, freak)

Don't post her on Insta (Ayy)

Side ting's too inner

I might have to address it (Why?)

Assumptions might kill her

Why you talking 'bout "Men are trash"?

Tek time off Twitter (You know Twitter talk)

I was hitting from the back, she want me to film it, nothing like Triller

Set up just like a director

Tommy Lee, I was the pussy mechanic

But I just turned pussy inspector (You know)

You know I wanna see likkle more, likkle bit

But I don't wanna be too extra

Said a guy never gave her this feeling, I must be an inventor

Remember, jawns in the blender, tender, venture right in the centre, enter

[Chorus: Sam Wise]

It's your birthday ho, it's your birthday b

It's your birthday ho, I don't wanna leave her 'cause she's

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked

We in the dance and everything

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked

Woi oi

Don't be annoyded

It's your birthday ho, it's your birthday b

It's your birthday ho, I don't wanna leave her 'cause she's

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked

We in the dance and everything

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked

Woi oi

[Verse 2: Kadiata]

(It's crazy)

Wicked, wicked, wicked

CRB 'fore I board this train ask bro if he ever copped a ticket

Sexy pics on her Insta, send her DM like "Hey Bighead" (Wagwan)

KMT her bredrin's smoky too, but I ain't tryna be a dickhead

But I ain't tryna gwarn like she don't look wicked, wicked, wicked

True say, I ain't tryna be mad shallow, I don't even know if the ting grips yet

True say I ain't even seen her in person but she already know how the ting set (Come on)

Better slow down if you want respect, call her Big Mama, but I ain't biscuit

Put it all on the line and I might risk it

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked

[Verse 3: Knucks]

It's your birthday, see you sittin' pretty

Your body set good, won't you give it to me

Wanna diet, get thin and skinny

But I like her, she my biggie-biggie

Biggie-biggie, she heavy-heavy

True say her best friend Ben & Jerry

True say it's bless 'cah we get the belly

Girl you know it's first-class, not secondary

Been a whole week, ain't you checking for me?

A piece, I'm in love with this pepperoni

Need an award how she bend it for me

Pull up front row to the ceremony

You sending for me, B, it's cash on demand

Racks in my hand in a fat rubberband

I might have to holla you back when I land

My luggage is light, still, I might catch a tan

[Outro]

Juls baby

[Saxophone Solo]