"Who You Are (Superstar)" lyrics
Calling my number one
Front row at your audience
All these cameras, and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm only yours, I'm always yours
Aye, whoa, whoa, look
These bitches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Fucking with a nigga, let her take it too far
You the one that they got up on they mood board
When I flick you from the back, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are
I know who you are
Yo' face buried in silk
I hop, I'm on top, I'm the king of the hill
Ex wrapped around your finger, he wanna marry you still
I'm talking shit in your ear, you showing off in the mirror
I match your sex drive, I'm teaching you how to steer
I put you in every gear, yeah
I ask her do she love it
She say, "Daddy, hell yeah"
She deserve a tail number and a Telfar
You don't need a man, you need a man as your hold up
You don't need a man, you need a cameraman
I'm not that nigga that you call that's never answering
These stupid nigga fumbling a real bitch, they can't handle it, aye
Tesla truck, picking it up
Dickin' her down, liftin' her up
She drop it again, it's a deluxe
She a superstar chick, give her superstar dick
Fuck around and have a superstar kid, aye
Man, these bitches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Fucking with a nigga, let her take it too far
You the one that they got up on they mood board
When I flick you from the back, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are
I know who you are
All she need's a platform
All she need is somebody who gon' go to bat for her
Soon as she leave the house, make her come back for it
Who gon' hold that ass down and make her want to clap for it?
Clap for it, and you the best at it
Sold out shows, jumpin' like a pep rally
Girl, you poppin', I'ma fuck you at the Met Gala, we made a mess at it
Aye, and fuck these hating ass bitches, hope they take it personal
And you know the hate last as long as the workflow
Pisces, Scorpio, water signs, surf those
Pussy fire, I might have to go no-shirt mode
And you blessed, I know Creflo and Kirk know
You a superstar, just never go commercial
Right stroke, left stroke, that's the best stroke
Death stroke, tongue all down your throat
Oh, ah, you don't ever happen to people like me
You could be anywhere, but you're where you wanna be, yeah
Shooting star in the limelight, my sweet thing
And I'd buy you this whole fucking world
'Cause you love me for me, yeah, yeah
These bitches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
You the one that they got up on they mood board
You know who you was, I know who you are
I know who you are
I know who you are
Calling my number one
Front row at your audience
All these cameras, and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm only yours, I'm always yours
Front row at your audience
All these cameras, and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm only yours, I'm always yours
Aye, whoa, whoa, look
These bitches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Fucking with a nigga, let her take it too far
You the one that they got up on they mood board
When I flick you from the back, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are
I know who you are
Yo' face buried in silk
I hop, I'm on top, I'm the king of the hill
Ex wrapped around your finger, he wanna marry you still
I'm talking shit in your ear, you showing off in the mirror
I match your sex drive, I'm teaching you how to steer
I put you in every gear, yeah
I ask her do she love it
She say, "Daddy, hell yeah"
She deserve a tail number and a Telfar
You don't need a man, you need a man as your hold up
You don't need a man, you need a cameraman
I'm not that nigga that you call that's never answering
These stupid nigga fumbling a real bitch, they can't handle it, aye
Tesla truck, picking it up
Dickin' her down, liftin' her up
She drop it again, it's a deluxe
She a superstar chick, give her superstar dick
Fuck around and have a superstar kid, aye
Man, these bitches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Fucking with a nigga, let her take it too far
You the one that they got up on they mood board
When I flick you from the back, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are
I know who you are
All she need's a platform
All she need is somebody who gon' go to bat for her
Soon as she leave the house, make her come back for it
Who gon' hold that ass down and make her want to clap for it?
Clap for it, and you the best at it
Sold out shows, jumpin' like a pep rally
Girl, you poppin', I'ma fuck you at the Met Gala, we made a mess at it
Aye, and fuck these hating ass bitches, hope they take it personal
And you know the hate last as long as the workflow
Pisces, Scorpio, water signs, surf those
Pussy fire, I might have to go no-shirt mode
And you blessed, I know Creflo and Kirk know
You a superstar, just never go commercial
Right stroke, left stroke, that's the best stroke
Death stroke, tongue all down your throat
Oh, ah, you don't ever happen to people like me
You could be anywhere, but you're where you wanna be, yeah
Shooting star in the limelight, my sweet thing
And I'd buy you this whole fucking world
'Cause you love me for me, yeah, yeah
These bitches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
You the one that they got up on they mood board
You know who you was, I know who you are
I know who you are
I know who you are
Calling my number one
Front row at your audience
All these cameras, and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm only yours, I'm always yours
