Popstar Shit - Fudge

I’m rock 'n rolling

Lock, Stock, & Two Smoking Barrels with my homies

London boy, Jason Statham

(?) if I go to prison

These niggas know my vision, I don’t need no revision

I get money all the ways that I had dreamed of, this rhythm

I got to get them

Drop so much hot shit like Sriracha dinner

They pulling cards, Imma go fish 'em

I promise I don’t trust no nigga (none of you)

If God didn’t have a sense of humor, why’d he make me funny

And if you grew up ugly then you probably getting money

And if you grew up cocky then you probably working (?)

Punk nigga, you went left trying to punk niggas

You so dramatic, (?) niggas

And now you blowing (?) niggas

These black shades, I’m the one nigga

Mr. Anderson, don’t embarrass him

I’m doging bullets, Jackie Chan and them

Get stripped like (?) and them

Quality shit talking talking

Rockstar shit, popstar shit

I’m a seedless nigga get a popstar bitch

Yeah

Dark alleyways got celebrities doing cocaine

All they wanna do is come back like Rogaine

Shit get me shook when the door close

Cause they got some more hoes

So they could deliver like DiGiornos

That’s the point of hoes

I’m sipping liquor just so I can figure

All the times that I felt like a bitch

When I was dreaming of a championship

Last picked in my recess click

And try to bury all the memories

Rearrange, your energy building

Shows I done filled it

Hit up hoes from way back when

Then hit it off of guilt shit

I could be a business

Or I could get a whip and try to fly if off a building

Which one would make me less pussy

Which one would make me less shook

Which one would make me living legend

Get a reverend

Tell him bless him, he’s a master do not test him

Heaven sent him, lie a message

Keenan Ivory got the letter

Nigga