Lyrics I'm Not A Star - Rick Ross

I'm Not A Star

Chea!
I’m not a star, somebody lied
I got a pistol in the car, a .45
If I’d die today, remember me like John Lennon
Buried in Louie, I’m talkin' all brown linen
Make all of my bitches tattoo my logo on they titty
Put a statue of a nigga in the middle of the city
Load up the choppers like it’s December 31st
Roll up and cock it and hit them niggas where it hurts
Told on my partner and help them crackers give him 30
I told him I got it, therefore I gotta do ya dirty
Back on my biz, been in this bitch since 8:30
Scoop me a dime, now makin off at 10:30
Goin' on 12, go home and tell that man a lie
I got a bake sale, bitch its 30' for the pie
It’s 9 for the slice, dummy that’s a Dan Marino
Talkin' quarterbacks meanin talkin' quarter kilos
Niggas feel my pain, I ain’t even gotta say it
Where I come from, if you open it you payin'
How I can save when all my niggas in the can?
Am I my brothers keeper?
Motherfucker take my hand
Pull up to the club, I got a kilo in the car
Black card but a nigga spendin' c-notes at the bar
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
All black Lamborghini, smokin' on the sticky
Got a couple dollars, now this nigga think he Ricky
Pull up to the club, I got a kilo in the car
Black card but a nigga spendin' c-notes at the bar
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
I’m not a star, somebody lied
I spent a milly on the car, it come alive
Never feed it after dark, gotta treat it like a Gremlin
It’s a multi-million dollar motherfucker in it
And I’m quick to blow a milli in a minute
I know them people wanna stick me with the sentence
I’m a player catchin' bitches like I’m TO
Trunk full of work, yeah this nigga think he Nino
Three dice yeah, grab a nigga for a kilo
Pinky ring a hundred grand but keep that on the d-low
Diddy negotiates and the paperwork to Theo
My niggas never sing, if I need 'em I go to Ne-Yo
Fuck a famous bitch then I treat her just like a ski-oh
Not even worth a shower, just grab me a stick of deo
Monday for ménages and Tuesday I get a trio
And the bitch that get a gift on the scriff, she was a PO
Pull up to the club, I got a kilo in the car
Black card but a nigga spendin' c-notes at the bar
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
I’m not a star
I’m not a star