Stefflon Don - Style lyrics

Number one, let's go eh

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

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

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

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
When I come in to dance
Everybody come to dance
Everybody, everybody, let's go eh

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