[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