Got the rockstar motivation
She said they're gonna give it to me
Self righteous, your gonna make it baby
You've got something we wanna see
But the blood on your lips, says you can't quit it
What a waste of a taste, 'cause you'll never get it
Are you preaching what you're receiving baby
Money falling down from the tree's
Yea, get your pistol, your freakin' Lincoln
Baby you got something we wanna see
But the blood on you lips, says you can't quit it
What a waste of a taste cause you'll never get it