by AFRICANTHEFIRE :)

A few weeks ago, a dear friend wrote a poem/rap about me whilst I was pretending to understand what was going on in lesson. It goes a little something like this:

They call me Eva,

purple vagabond if you nasty

I stomp on these late bitches

London town try and find me

My swagga’s insane, from Doc’s to Louis’

No fakes

So fly and strutting through

Making your man do a double take

I jump on Skype

all these unknowns on my hype

from Kuwait to Sicily

these niggas thinking they my type

I’m far too flawless

I’m banking dollars

Working for everything

Custom padlock on my drawers

I roll with big cheese

Where’s my knife and fork

Oh- you think I’m late now

Wait till you see me in New York

SCREENSHOTS OF HE AND I CHATTING ABOUT NOTHING PRECISELY A YEAR AGO

Follow him on twitter

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