[Intro]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
Fuck n***a, yeah, it could get tragic

[Chorus]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
Fuck n***a, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n***a disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords

[Verse]
Hand on my gun, I'm a tool boy
I'ma shoot first, I'm a rude boy
.40 gon jerk like a new boy
I'm gettin tired of these new boys
Wait, I am a new boy, huh
Feel like a vet but I'm fresh like a rookie
I'm fucking your bitch, yeah, I'm up in 'em cookies
This bitch came from Jersey, she thick call her Snookie
Uh-huh, uh-huh
I put a brick on my arm
Cursed diamonds on me, that's a charm
Big .40 on me, I'm armed
Uh-huh, uh-huh
That bitch ride dick like a car
I turn yo' hoe to a star
Tape her like a VCR
[Chorus]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
Fuck n***a, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n***a disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
Fuck n***a, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n***a disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords

[Outro]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
Fuck n***a, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n***a disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords