Man I'm sick of this running

Rather a house in the country with sheep and a donkey but that life be way way too comfy

Sick of this monthly waiting on payday cause rapping don't pay me

I'm sick of your lyrics you say it to say it

It's fake don't mean nada

I write from Havana Camilla Cabello

Boy out Fermanagh

I'm sick of the chatter, the gossip, the boy still employed tryna boss up

Played all my shit to a label like what's up

Couple years prior your boy couldn't touch em

Laid all my life on the table from way back to natal you'd think I was playing with Russians

Young me used to ride on the buses

Now tube cause I moved out to London

Same Qs they all ask if I love it

Say good but I'm sick of discussion