[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]