Shooting Stars

Lyrics
[Intro] (Smoov, what's good, baby?) [Verse] I'm fly as an airplane, but gang and them like shooting stars I ain't gon' lie, I miss goin' back and forth with Drakeo about who the hardest You gon' get down or you gon' lay down, or find out who You make Neiman Marcus, Barnies type jingle, you make more [?] The backup bitch was suckin' dick for tip for didn't come from [?] She got all the followers on the 'Gram in a bucket and I ran through her She told her she can't fuck with you unless you got the bag for her As soon as you hand it to her, came to the Plug in that order I put balls around the rim of your bitch mouth and nut on the backboard She act like a square with you, you see how she text when she [?] Livin' in the Matrix, but I can't even rewind or fast forward shit I wish I can see all of my niggas up on Forbes List I'm the pilot of the flyest airline, I'm a fuselage Bitch only fuckin' with your lame ass 'cause you usin' our persona Bitch, in the presence of the Plug, you should be honored And when you hear that loud noise in the block, it's not a lawnmower Man, here's a street sweeper, here's a mop, now go do some chores Don't ask me how the Plug feel unless you gon' boost the score I'ma get money with every hour in the day, now what you gon' do with yours? It's twenty-four hours in the day, what you waitin' for? I like head and bread and he paid for sexual intercourse You ain't doin' this shit for gettin' money, what you in it for? It's two on two, and if you ain't buyin' nothin', don't walk in the store Don't be a window shopper, it's my money, it's not yours I get the money out the bitch but not applied by force Come on, bitch, is you with it or not? It's your choice Man, all the opps gon' die, I dare you to stand on some corners Niggas always sayin' they from the city they not in, they like foreigners These rap niggas can't even walk around, they act like tourists Niggas talk like they run cities that they can't go to stores in Got real mob ties, I talk to myself at the round table LA actin' like you got the eye of the tiger, gon' end up like [?] Put a hole in one, I'll put swiss cheese in his bagel Fuck a snowstorm, made it rain on my son and told him bathe in We out here, all them other niggas comin', we way different I'm from the Stinc Team, this ain't the dealer, but I'm the same nigga, the Plug
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Credits
- Writers
- Ralfy the Plug