Superstar

[Verse 1] Hey yo it's funny nowadays how these fools see rap As a Road to the Riches like Kool G Rap And most people see me and think "Damn, not again They signed another guy who's a friend of Eminem" But you put me in a booth to the crowds disbelief That if I spit the illest I'm keeping all my teeth Then bite your style and feed you the feces You've been shoving down the throats of these folks with CD's And believe that I can be dropped just like that And be right back working a job I might slack at I can't do it fuck it I'd rather show you that I love it with a bullshit budget These cats walk around iced out with gunclaps And no glass in a corner of fools with dunce caps And dumb raps on how you're a star whatever yo You ain't shit without approval from Thom Panunzio [Chorus] Renting all your fancy clothes That ain't your car in the videos Tryna be gangsta You ain't no superstar... Your jewelry ain't fooling me Don't give a fuck about V.I.P Tryna be gangsta You ain't no superstar... [Verse 2] See I blew my advance on a truck and Desert Eagle Cause image isn't nothing it doesn't measure ego Plus wherever we go we might get into trouble I haven't made enough to afford a body double Cats get some duckets and worry about wheels Instead of saying something with meaning that really feels Love all the glamour to me it's all glitz But the music that they make in the back is all shit For me don't roll out the red carpet I wouldn't even know how to act in that department This game is fucked for sure and by far Topics for the songs are made up by A & R's (whew! That's banging!...Thanks man...We should get J. Lo on the remix!) If my album doesn't sell good for Jimmy Iovine I'll be inside a bank screaming give me all your green [Chorus] [Verse 3] Hey yo these rappers pose like models in every head shot But they've blown every chance like the Boston Red Sox Get a deal throw it away in 1 instance I got my shit together forever keep your distance I'd rather keep a will in the bank and be respected You think I need to spend me a mil to be accepted Forget where you're from and you can't go back Can't show you still got it like an old throwback At a bar chicks think you're slick with quick winks In return they reply to you back and give blinks Til you walk up on my crew with mixed drinks (Have you listened to my album?) yeah your shit stinks No subjects no skills and no spirit Mink coats iced out chains and no lyrics Acting in this business like y'all pitched in And not a modern day baller like Paul Fishkin [Chorus]