[Intro]

[Verse 1]

Maybe I put my home on the price, dig in my jacket

A pack of jonnies, some Jim Bean, we be making a racket

I just got off of the phone with the Lord and Saviour himself

He told me the second coming, some little Dublin knacker

I'm on the phone to the majors, told ’em to suck my dick

I'm a step ahead of a label, I fuck myself in my sleep

Play this shit for your granny or play this shit for your mammy

Or somebody with some money, I'm sick of shopping in Aldi’s

Sick of playing for beans, sick of paying for clothes

So I made a couple t-shirts and sold 'em off at the shows

Sick of being so humble, sick of being the best

I'm sick of being a beacon, I'm burning up in the stress

Sick of the people talking, sick of the people guessing

I'm sick to point of putting my hands on a Smith & Wesson

So to answer all your questions, don't you worry about my health I'm great, I just got sick of saying it to myself

[Chorus]

I need a wet nurse, call up a midi

What's the issue? I’m just tryna see your titty

I need a flu shot, call up your dealer

What’s the issue? You don't have no money either

I need a wet nurse, call up a midi

What’s the issue? I'm just tryna see your titty

I need a flu shot, call up your dealer

What's the issue? You don't have no money either

I need a wet nurse, call up a midi

What’s the issue? I'm just tryna see your titty

I need a flu shot, call up your dealer

What's the issue? You don't have no money either

I need a wet nurse, call up a midi

What's the issue? I'm just tryna see your titty

I need a flu shot, call up your dealer

What's the issue? You don't have no money either