Celebrity

I just touched down, Ferrari to concrete

I ain’t even home and they’re talking about me

f-ck out my ear if you talking ’bout freedom n-gger

Free don’t pay the bills Im ballin’ all out, b!

You rappers don’t know me

Nah I ain’t your homie

If your name aint Em, Ferrari or Tony

I like my wheel chromey

My Bentley my Rolly

My Magnum my forty

South Jamaica shawty

these losses I took in the gut yo

the work’s still here, I’m just cooking it up slow

Clear my mind, you whippin’ the truck load

my Pop dead, but he live through his son though

if rap aint work, I’ll be pimpin’ on some hoe

Still eating lobster and shrimp in the Bungalow

I’m back like crack over the drumroll

You know, wherever I go the gun go

We on the grind (hey) all the time (hey)

ain’t bout to let a n-gga come and snatch mine

I keep a nine, you see the shine

I might just let your ass slide this time

While I get this paper, paper

While I get this paper, paper

Cause I’m a celebrity

(I don’t need none of y’all)

Ghetto celebrity

(Keep your punk-ass awards)

I’m a celebrity

(Take your fake smile off)

Ghetto celebrity

aint nothing changed n-gger

The media will test ya, popularity is pressure

Porche Panamera

platinum hammer through the metal

wreck the booth up, I’m too tough

that inner city grammer

step your jewels up, they bruised up

I’ll sparkle for the camera

harsh reality’s what holding them back from opening

verbal attack all over these n-ggas, push the herd to the back

I’m the kind that they pray on, spending half of their day on

lay on, n-ggas for days, just shots spray on

my sound system knock and in pound Tupac

6-4 jumping like the ground too hot

they spot me, they chase a n-gga down two blocks

two shots in the air for n-ggas that aint here

two tone, two door, grey top, roof floor

green guap galore, in and out of new hall

that bright light you saw, was a paparazzi flash

I’m tryna snap a picture through your Maserati glass

We on the grind (hey) all the time (hey)

ain’t bout to let a n-gga come and snatch mine

I keep a nine, you see the shine

I might just let your ass slide this time

While I get this paper, paper

While I get this paper, paper

Cause I’m a celebrity

(I don’t need none of y’all)

Ghetto celebrity

(Keep your punk-ass awards)

I’m a celebrity

(Take your fake smile off)

Ghetto celebrity

aint nothing changed n-gger

…there are enough insults in my head

to fill up a swear jar

and have it overflowing so dont get me going, don’t dare start

you’ll never see me again, Amelia Earhart

I’m poppin’ a wheelie off to a really unfair start

I’m past grinding for me, guess I just be grounded up

like ground round or a pound of chuck

tightly wound as f-ck

till the fire marshalls come shut

Fire marshall ground ‘em up

I guess you should just shut the f-ck up

and stop f-cking around and duck

I aint playing this time, I told you I’m not down for blunts

to say I keep it 100 would probably sound redundant

like calling a bitch a hoe, or asking a gal to suck

and blowing your d-ck cock

is she up to scew and down to f-ck

it’s a man’s World and I’m trapped in a land of smut

with a thousand sluts wrapped with muzzles

running through a house of muts

otherwords I’m shutting up everyone one of you bitches mouth’s up

and I’m watching my language if I tell you to kiss my f-cking butt

and aint sh-t changed, my sh-t still dont stink player

my farts may have become staler ever since I became a trailer park celebrity

maybe my complexion became a little paler

poster job for white trash, I’m a garbage pale kid sailor

yeah, see me up all in your b-tch means I’ma rape her,

all I got for these hoes is d-ck duck tape and a stapler so b-tch you better look for table scraps to scrape her

I don’t subscribe to the news or the free press but homie I get the paper!