Gotta Be A Star (feat. Johnny Juliano, S. Money) [Remix]

歌詞

Fuckin' hoes everywhere we go Taylor Gang, paper planes Uh, they lovin' what I say Tell her keep count What you other niggaz speak bout [VERSE 1] Lamborghini dreams, beach house wishes Poor bottles of champagne for my beach house bitches It ain't new to me, the money boy I been bout Throwin 100's on the floor, I tell her keep count Nigga, they in love wit what I say Cuz I, really live the life you other niggaz speak bout Got my camera man, he down to do a movie for me Couple niggaz round us, down to do the shootin' for me I'm still ridin' wit my main bitch She rollin' the joint, somethin' old school playin' She love me, we fuck and we in the fly-free zone When some niggaz will captain-save-it I let her shop till she drop dead Sleepin' in her crib, wake up to decent pot plan Jordan shorts and a pear of polo socks, blazin' Wit yo bitch, you wanna live smoke this [CHORUS] I'm glad to be here, I been waitin' so long (so long, so long) I finally found me a cloud to float on (float on) And I'ma float on (float on) Float on (float on) And I'ma float on (float on) Float on, float on, float on And I don't have much, but I'll take all I got and that's what I give (what I give) What I get in return is the money I earn, and the life I live (life I live) I'm so gone as I burn after rolling (after rolling) And float on, and float on, and float on [VERSE 2] Talk numbers, I hire people to speak for me If you love her, then hide your bitch so you keep shorty Ever fly private So much diamonds in my chain, hella sky mileage I fell asleep on a plane And never woke up, and now I'm living a dream Suckas hate hard, hoes treat me like I'm a king They wanna live comfortably, sippin on champagne Real niggaz fuck with me, so drama is not a thing I gave my momma the ocean Told her anything to come through the door to open the whole clip I'm wit yo bitch smokin, let her keep the mid, I'ma roll this potent Hotel so close to the water You can even here the ocean Them bitches can't breathe Beware of them niggaz wit tattoo sleeves [CHORUS] [VERSE 3] Wanna smoke, cuz they know that I keep flavors Tell me how them other niggaz lame And she love the cool crowd, so she fuckin' with the Taylors Wear All-Stars and smoke papers IPhone with no ringtones Vibrate or on plane mode Palm trees and bomb pre-rolls The weed burnin, but the money just fold While I'm lookin at you niggaz face Light another L, and pull the liquor out the case Niggaz try and fail, see me now they wanna hate Fly another plane, a different city, another state My cash change the forecast As the team was half-baked before class Now I smoke joints wit others niggaz hoes, and this shit you burn after you roll Fool [CHORUS]