She Wish - Joe Snow

See every woman’s got a demon to fight, a secret to hide

On how they’d rather be out creeping at night, than be by your side

And I chatting no shite, or rapping a lie

I happen to find that, your catty wish you were a writer

Ink stained fingers inside her, tagging up a name on the night bus

And now she’s telling you it’s over cause she’d rather have a fella ballied up

with bolt cutters

Ha, you think she thinking you dope cause dough you got but no she ain’t

Fuck Orange Wednesday, she’d rather see a rolling freight

And if you’re holding weight of potassium permanganate

You’re quick to get a catty’s batty shaking like a can of paint

Now I ain’t saying she a buy blacker but she ain’t fucking with no toy tagger

Right baghead, look paggered in them skinny ass jeans

Shit, she’d rather you be king in the scene, seen?

She wants that, I don’t give a fucked it

That back splat, latex gloved it

That step inside the spot and tear it upped it

That bitch hold my mic’d it

Up on roof tops all night it

You can’t even see it, she wants my dick

And she wishes you were everything that you’re not

She used to fuck you good but now that’s all stopped

And now she’s telling you it’s over cause your clothes are too clean and you

don’t smoke enough

She wants a no comment man, the blurred face in the picture

Show her how to hold a can and lace up a scripture

Send it out to racked paint, back shots, back stage

She’s after the real deal and you’re just part of the fan base

She got you twisted round her baby finger

You’re clocking her clocking me clocking her and the way she lingers

And you ain’t saying shit, that mic biker rider trainer dick

You’re too blind to notice that she takes the piss

The thing is.

Your yatty wish you were a writer

I said she wishes that you rapped

Yeah, she wishes you a writer

Yo she wishes that you rapped

Your catty wish you were a writer

Yo she wishes that you rapped

Yo she wishes you a writer

And she the reason why we gone and wrote this track

Yo, yo

I seen the way she sits and stares at all my drips and flairs

She’s quick to share a list of where she’d love to hit and blitz with yeah, me

So where you be when I’m out juicing a squeeze, new to the scene dude in his

teens

Schooled to the dream, that nice life is a reach

Especially if you write in the streets and your wife is a neek

Try for the team but never made it, resided to beef

Couped up inside with a dude you line, it gets deep

No 600's, no late nights, no licks with pigs truncheons

No mess from tins on kicks or slits by big plunges

No flicks or memory sticks, no tips that drip under pressure

No chrome burners or letters, so go get ya

Man with the right taste for van sides and nice paint

Back jumps and rides great, whatever

Don’t let her, get in your head it’s best that you never

Tried to live that graff life why try to impress her?

See choke doper then I smoke you blow, a loco flow

To open shows and rope up in the dough you only want the throne

His catty blowing off my phone, looks like you rolling home alone

Zone roaming in a stoned up abyss

Holding a spliff blow the smoke from his lips, then quoting my shit like;

'Bitch!

I know he chat her up but how the fuck he link my yatty with a Dad bud

swag'

And now she all over my belly and my man tips

All because I drop it heavy and I can spit

The way I angle my language causing man damage and anguish

His plans of family vanished because my grammar is savage, fuck whit!

I said life ain’t fair but now this rhythm got me rhythm by your wifes big pair,

it’s tetchy yeah

I swear I’m sorry for your loss, nah I’m lying mush I couldn’t give a toss

Because.

Your yatty wish you were a writer

I said she wishes that you rapped

Yeah, she wishes you a writer

Yo she wishes that you rapped

Your catty wish you were a writer

Yo she wishes that you rapped

Yo she wishes you a writer

And she the reason why we gone and wrote this track