Rockstar

Album: Blame It on Baby (2020)
Charted: 1 1
Play Video
  • Even if I told you, still wouldn't understand what happened
    Rather be myself, if people look at me, don't matter
    A rockstar, nigga, just tryna keep it kosher
    Try to keep my eyes on my own paper like my teachers told me
    Soon as niggas think it's over (poof)
    Number one on the charts, I'm there vicariously
    Oh, there they go, biasly
    Pushin' negative narratives, I'm ready though
    Cops wanna pull me over, embarrass me
    Abusin' power, you never knew me, thought I was arrogant
    As a juvenile, police pulled their guns like they scared of me
    And we're used to how crackers treat us, now that's the scary thing
    Want anything we good at and we cherish it
    Now we all fed up and niggas comin' back for everything
    Rockstars, nigga, just watch the news, they burnin' cop cars, nigga
    Kill another nigga, break the law, then call us outlaws, nigga
    What happened? Want us to keep it peaceful
    Shoulda seen them hatin' bitches face
    when I bought that Lamborghini (SethInTheKitchen)
    Throw up my middle finger, police can't catch me, this a

    Brand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car
    With the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (yeah, yeah, yeah)
    Have you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)
    This ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (woo)
    My Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (woo)
    You better let me go the day you need me (woo)
    Soon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (woo)
    And if I ain't enough, go get the chop

    It's safe to say I earned it, ain't a nigga gave me nothin' (yeah, yeah, yeah)
    I'm ready to hop out on a nigga, get to bussin'
    Know you heard me say, "You play, you lay," don't make me push the button
    Full of pain, dropped enough tears to fill up a fuckin' bucket
    Goin' for buckets, I bought a chopper
    I got a big drum, it hold a hundred, ain't goin' for nothin'
    I'm ready to air it out on all these niggas, I can see 'em runnin'
    Just talked to my mama, she hit me on FaceTime
    just to check up on me and my brother, I'm really the baby
    she know that her youngest son was always guaranteed to get the money (okay, let's go)
    She know that her baby boy was always guaranteed to get the loot
    She know what I do, she know 'fore I run from a nigga, I'ma pull it out and shoot (boom)
    Ptsd, I'm always waking up in cold sweats like I got the flu
    My daughter a G, she saw me kill a nigga in front of her before the age of two
    And I'll kill another nigga too
    'Fore I let another nigga do somethin' to you
    Long as you know that, don't let nobody tell you different
    Daddy love you (yeah, yeah), let's go

    Brand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car
    With the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (yeah, yeah, yeah)
    Have you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)
    This ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (woo)
    My Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (woo)
    You better let me go the day you need me (woo)
    Soon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (woo, yeah)
    And if I ain't enough, go get the chop (yeah, yeah)

    Keep a Glocky when I ride in the Suburban
    'Cause the codeine had a young nigga swervin'
    I got the mop, watch me wash 'em like detergent
    And I'm ballin', that's why it's diamonds on my jersey
    Slide on opps' side and flip the block back, yeah, yeah
    My junior popped him and left him lopsided, yeah, yeah
    We spin his block, got the rebound, Dennis Rodman
    You fool me one time, you can't cross me again
    Twelve hundred horsepower, I get lost in the wind
    If he talkin' on the yard, the pen' dogs'll take his chin
    Maybach SUV for my refugees
    Buy blocks in the hood, put money in the streets
    I was solo when the opps caught me at the gas station
    Had it on me, thirty thousand, thought it was my last day
    But they ain't even want no smoke (no smoke)
    If I had to choose it, murder what she wrote (let's go)

    Brand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car
    With the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (yeah, yeah, yeah)
    Have you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)
    This ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (woo)
    My Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (woo)
    You better let me go the day you need me (woo)
    Soon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (woo)
    And if I ain't enough, go get the chop Writer/s: Jonathan Lyndale Kirk, Rodrick Moore, Ross Joseph Portaro
    Publisher: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

Comments

Be the first to comment...

Editor's Picks

Edie Brickell

Edie BrickellSongwriter Interviews

Edie Brickell on her collaborations with Paul Simon, Steve Martin and Willie Nelson, and her 2021 album with the New Bohemians.

Ralph Casale  - Session Pro

Ralph Casale - Session ProSongwriter Interviews

A top New York studio musician, Ralph played guitar on many '60s hits, including "Lightnin' Strikes," "A Lover's Concerto" and "I Am A Rock."

Gary Numan

Gary NumanSongwriter Interviews

An Electronic music pioneer with Asperger's Syndrome. This could be interesting.

Bass Player Scott Edwards

Bass Player Scott EdwardsSong Writing

Scott was Stevie Wonder's bass player before becoming a top session player. Hits he played on include "I Will Survive," "Being With You" and "Sara Smile."

Fire On The Stage

Fire On The StageSong Writing

When you have a song called "Fire," it's tempting to set one - these guys did.

Kristian Bush of Sugarland

Kristian Bush of SugarlandSongwriter Interviews

Kristian talks songwriting technique, like how the chorus should redefine the story, and how to write a song backwards.