The Star

[Verse 1]

When that adrenaline get in ya system

I put 'em out on the quest for stardom, could be a muh'fucking problem

The city, Atlanta, Los Angeles, Chicago is like

A lot of youngins using hating as a motto despite

I try to give 'em something positive to follow my drive

Quite fast they are Bart, I am Otto

Abort what you talking

Dead beat fathers, when ya girlfriend late

Although I love the city, it's a whole lot of haters

Everybody wanna rap, everybody tryna make it

It's no spot vacant

And everybody shooting, it's really nothing to aim at

Ricochet 'Le, you shoot me you get the pain back

Yeah, my loose leaf bleeds anthrax

Run relay to the mouth from the brain

It more or less becomes Taliban dangerous

Hold up, hold up, listen..

You telling me I ain't shit

It's quite true, constipation takes patience

I have that like waitress, and the game's like an indecisive patron

Since 'Ye, I been working on my spaceship

Putting work, don't you see the MySpace hits

See, Joe, that's why I never say shit

Sensitive niggas never know how to take shit

No, I'm not signed, I don't wanna hear ya demo

Don't wanna do a verse, it's really quite simple

I have to pull the blind on opportunity's window

Opportunists they are but it's nothing I can give you

It's nothing I can give you, I ain't got shit, yeah

It's nothing I can give you

[Verse 2]

Yeah, I get a message like "Wale, what up?"

I respond on the spot, my reply "nothing much"

They reply like "fuck, you really responded"

Then I look at my sent box and see it was forwarded

And not that I'm bothered

I just feel like it is not that serious people make it

'Cause I feel as an artist I am somewhat responsible

For making the followers feel me a little more

Let 'em know I acknowledge them

Yeah, so when I can, I reply to them

And they reply to me, but this what bothers me

Every other message be that blah ze blah

"Yo, I got me a artist, can you feature for all of us

Or can you feature for one of us

'Cause we from DC and we know such and such

We got this, that, the third and that that

Producers and what not, and we on ASCAP

And we got a studio, engineers on all that

So if you swing by, we'll throw you a couple tracks

Do you know Mark, I got me this young cat

He sound like a young Kells, he compliment y'all tracks"

I don't respond back, 'cause I ain't with all that

'Cause I put in my work, you coming for all that

I'm grinding for nine years, a lot of the lot of time

Rhyming for 12 years and now I'm the front line

Y'all niggas coming out, Diana they want mine

I never knew recess, and I don't do lunch time

Whoever do want mine, better do what I've done

And this place should not be full with another man's lunch

This game sidekicks don't make it

Only good for like a year like a sidekick pager

And I ain't trying fake it like a psychic either

But the crystal ball tell me you got rappers in ya neighbor-hood

Well, save it, guarantee you been saying

The same damn shit every other hater saying

Like "my name Lil Black, got this, got that

I'm better than Wale, yeah, Wale's wack

Wale act like he too damn high

He don't write a nigga back, he ain't put us on the map

He on that nigga Tabi, both of them niggas trash

With they lil ass pants, don't nobody wear that shit"

Aw, aw, aw… stop!

[Verse 3]

Mad 'cause if good was bad, you'd be a goody two shoes

I'd be the devil unmasked

Speak of the devil, lyrically put a gun in yo' ass

And get to bustin' off 'til my words short as my breath

Long winded, long winded

Means y'all fucking with the wrong nigga

You are so not a star, nigga

While I am close, I am more a Marvin, a martian with it

Yeah, make them haters mad, space modulator place them a hand

Live '08, 80 with Durant

I'm a star, see, the galaxy's my pad

And the atmosphere around me is dust and gas

Dusty ass rappers obviously being gassed

Not in my orbit, they not in my path

I don't really care if I'm the first to make it out

'Cause I know, I be the nigga that them niggas ain't doubt

Nah, out forest grow the Barry Farm's south parts

I got genuine fans that's coming out for us

You got friends that be at the shows loud for ya

I got strangers that love the way I sound off

They say I sound more official than them other bammas

They love my hip hop, so fuck a SoundScan

And fuck a BDS, I am a CVS

I got it all, Joe, I'm like 'em all, Joe

So bring 'em on, Joe, and bring 'em all, Joe

Star like Eddie on Malcolm Jamal show

Stop wellin', don't nobody be at y'all shows

Swear 'fore Lord y'all lying like a barcode

Y'all line like part on cornrow

Flow like nigga head, niggas can't comb through it

Ya can't perm that, 'cause y'all pure wack

Syntax error undeliverable work, yes

Yes, I got the city, got the 'burbs

Got the jocks, got the nerds, got the teachers and the janitor

In principle, I have the principle's word

The school of hard knocks get ya pad out and learn, show you where the star is

One cannot achieve such status on the out unless he know it in his heart, yeah

Correct, that I'm is, perfection as close as it gets

Just like a star, I'm the muse of the music of Karin

My music is lended to their ears, a legend where I live

You niggas funny as a bitch, you could be like a six on Letterman's list

I'm caught between D.C. and Maryland shit

PG resident and I love it over here

I'm a S-T-A-R, the one a A&R salivate for but I ain't signing papers

Got Sallie Mae funds that need to be paid for

A mean shoe fetish so I need to make more

If you can't pay more, Wale straight ignore ya

You finna pay more, for my sig-in-ature

And just to make sure that you got the name right

Say my name all the time so you know it on the dime

I stay on niggas mind like the 50/59, in reverse

But you get it every time I do the line

There's nothing like mine, nothing like mine

I don't ever take pictures, you can see me in the sky

I'm a S-T-A-R