Like, yeah I’m quite impressed Need more pounds, I might invest Look at me now, private jets Who woulda known I’d be writing cheques Big Mike, live in the flesh Life dun changed, my life was a mess Yeah, my life was a mess But aight fuck that, it’s time to finesse Ooh, the boy’s got fabulous rhymes (Rhymes) And he’s got an Adidas line 100 bags for the show (Show) Had to make my manager decline It’s like I’m Jamie Carragher on grime (Grime) Spitting on the riddim ’til it’s soaked Hit ’em then I kill ’em with the smoke I am not the nigga to provoke Ah, Stormz still coming for the necks (Necks) Fuckboy I’m coming for you next Rock you when I’m running up the steps Dodge you when I’m ducking from the feds Like, wait Are we just gonna pretend That Stormz ain’t the nigga that they always recommend (recommend) From a city where we never beg friends Still a three stab ting til the end Skeng