Lyrics
I'm my grandma
I'm my mum
I'm the young, modern version
These my sons, they tote guns, but they run up all my funds
Welcome to London
This my possee, this my clique
If you hear this it gon' stick
And my flow becomes a tic
It gon' send you to a fit
That's a fit, that's some drip
I don't wanna hear that shit
What's on your mind, not your feet
Edit thoughts, they're not so neat
Think they fleeked, but I'm geeked
'Cos I used to be so meek
And I used to be a neek
But I'm kinda proud of it
Welcome to London
I see spiders, I see webs
Have you got free internet?
What's the password? What' the gag?
Watch this glasswork in this hand
That's my phone, like my bones, if it breaks then I'm upset
Just like I hate my hair wet
I see white, blue, mostly red
Cos the queen is not yet dead
But they're coming for my head, cos of what I fucking said
I don't rate your picked eggs
And you man a bunch of shegs
When I move, just watch my legs
Hit 'em with a one-two step
(Step step step step step)
Welcome to London
Welcome to London
I'm my grandma
I'm my mum
I'm the young, modern version
These my sons, they tote guns, but they run up all my funds
Welcome to London (London town)
In my lungs, in my hair, know that I don't have a care
They just stop, they just stare, but they wouldn't fucking dare
Forget bootcut, forget flare
We can't see from over there
If you want what's all the rage, know America's the stage
Puff puff passing the world sage
But we all stuck in a cage
And then we disengage
We just poster outrage
Got my chains on this ice age
Welcome to London
Welcome to London
I see feds
I see dreads
Helis passing overhead
I put chips in buttered bread
And send shots like arrowheads
I get loose just like a thread
Never full, I'm underfud
I'm a heathen in Hampstead
Writer(s): Emma Barratt
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