Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Who Wanna Be A Star? (It's Brand Nu Baby!), artist - Grand Puba. Album song The Contemporary Classics, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.09.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Who Wanna Be A Star? (It's Brand Nu Baby!) |
Who wanna be a star? |
Be out late night under the moon |
Got a plan to get dough and be rich by June |
And all the broads, sexual, yeah ultimate head |
But, over one chick I seen two niggas dead |
Who’s God? |
Know theyself and still know math |
And be that same bad nigga that’s hawkin on the ave |
It’s Brand Nu baby, it’s Brand Nu |
It’s Brand Nu baby, it’s Brand Nu |
Uhhh, Lord Jamar, rap caviar |
Guitar loop in a Jaguar Coupe |
Combat boots, fatigue suit, niggas that’s ready to shoot |
And «Ready to Die» like Biggie Smalls |
We can drop our drawers, see who got the bigger balls |
The way I act’ll be forever called a nigga y’all |
Tattoos on my arms and neck, bomb the set |
If you havin trouble payin me, pawn the baguettes |
Cause I be comin armed with, more than a threat |
All my LG niggas, why don’t y’all tell these niggas |
Treat 'em like paper trees and fell these niggas |
Now it’s all I can do not to smell these niggas |
These Brooklyn blocks is lookin hot |
These motherfuckin cops, is tryin to put me in they cookin pot |
But the shit it ain’t gon' never stop |
Forever playin the block, if you like it or not |
At the bassline I blow your mind at the top |
When the melody drop — I’m still here |
It’s psycho Western what happened on Creston A-V-E |
Bronx community, one-eight-three |
Who is the summer heat for winter leather |
Rims, rings, neck look gleamy bitch eyes look steamy |
She said she been smokin outdoor all day |
Let my find out my Bronx niggas hit you I’ll be up when it’s |
When the sun go down, I lose round on the ground |
One stuck in your crown, whoever zoos rendezvous |
With they crews, these drawers rip for free |
And if I can’t touch, then I got to pop the clutch |
Non-touchin broad is a fraud |
She prayed to the Lord and get fucked in a Ford |
And she a bad bitch, daddy rich, cousin used to pitch |
Faggot-ass brother gotta switch |
Uhh, now from way back when, when you gettin up goin to work |
I’m just gettin in, smellin like a pint of gin |
Up in the rathole, where ghetto bitches sellin they souls |
Cause it’s after 4 and all the discoes is closed |
Nigga I’m up when you up, and I’m up when you sleep |
Bouncin around in the black dirty offroad Jeep |
Wakin people up tryin to sleep |
Cause like the first time, this time, we makin the beats |
The undeniable, satisfiable, reliable, Brand Nubian |
Now you know we come with the bomb |
So hi-tech, see us on your DVD-ROM |
Get love from little kids like a Pokemon |
Everytime we spit that shit it be our word is bond |
See I been down in the trenches where projects hazard |
Where them visions of wire fences and dopefiends ran the yard |
I ain’t the sixth sense, I’m the 7th sense |