[Verse 1 - 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 sh**e, or rapping a lie
I happen to find that, your catty wish you were a writer
Ink stained fingers and ciders, 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
f** her Orange Wednesday, she'd rather see a rolling freight
And if you're holding weight of pota**ium 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 f**ing with no toy tagger
Right baghead, look paggered in them skinny a** jeans
sh**, she'd rather you be king in the scene, seen?
[Verse 2 - DatKid]
She wants that, I don't give a f**ed it
That back splat, latex gloved it
That step inside the spot and tear it upped it
That b**h 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 f** 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 sh**, that mic biker rider trainer dick
You're too blind to notice that she takes the piss
[Hook - Joe Snow]
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
[Verse 3 - Res One]
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?
[Verse 4 - Joe Snow]
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 sh** like;
'b**h! I know he chat her up but how the f** 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, f** 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
[Hook - Joe Snow]
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