Popstar Shit

[Verse 1: Michael Christmas] 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 [Hook: Michael Christmas] Quality shit talking talking Rockstar shit, popstar shit I'm a seedless nigga get a popstar bitch Yeah (x2) [Bridge: Michael Christmas] 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 [Verse 2: Michael Christmas] 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