Style

Number one, let's go. Eh

[Verse 1]

Cosmo? Dunno. Eh. Eh

In my Eight, London. Eh

Presidental Rolly on my wrist

When I was younger man I couldn't picture this

Come harder, always hustled. Father took the piss

He was a dickhead, too much politics, I told her

Don't worry momma I ain't going to sting

Like when you drink the coffee and you run to do a shit

This was those days when Boba Wayne in that Eight

And in one minute that popstar was at war with it

[Hook]

I write my lyrics in my own style

My momma don't cry when I broke, no

I kill beats like you must know

My shot the dance at the stage show

That poop my pants speaker

Steff don is the teacher

But ya'll, them don't know

New Era was a blood, yo. [x2]

[Verse 2]

Steff. Tell 'em

All the way through the jungle is a madness, London

Step up. Steff Don is a bad chick

You want it? You don't really want it, cause I

Keeping 'em coming, keep 'em running, and I

Burn 'em. Done 'em. Everytime them come I run 'em

London. Step up. Steff Don, what up?

The place get mad and wicked and wild out. Sho'

Wind up the dong dong low

Bitches want to know how I get get so

Mad wild out, while we kick it wild out

Steff Don done. She wild out

[Hook]

[Verse 3]

Them living on they bad self

And she tick and she tats so

Oh she fat and she going so

Blood clots, Steff Don, are mad so

Face pretty girl, look good. Eh. [x2]

When I come in to dance, everybody come to dance

Everybody, everybody, let's go. Eh

[Hook]

[Verse 4]

Give it to them

Cosmo? Dunno. Bingo. Eh

Feature. Leader. Me and the Teacher

That was a bit of Dutch. Yeah, you don't know I'm Dutch

But guess what. Me I'm a double Dutch

Part of speak on the daily