Lyrics

Chea! (Yeah) Ay, you know I'm lookin' for a five-star bitch, talkin' bout (Burr! Burr!) I'm talkin' homegirl Be lookin' like she just stepped outta magazine (Gucci!) If your credit score high, feet and nails stay fly Keep your juice box wet, and your head somethin' fine This time, it's gonna be somethin' serious (yeah!) I want a five-star bitch, I need a five-star bitch I need a five-star bitch, I want a five-star bitch Gotti, here go twelve bars, Gucci Mane got nine cars We don't call 'em dimes no more, '09 we call 'em five stars I'm a five-star nigga, this a five-star clique That's a 645, this that new M6 Pay her bills, get her hair fixed, might even pay her rent And the way she give it to me, best money I ever spent Hey, I can't even lie, I'm so super high Do not need her, will not keep her unless she is fly Gucci Mane's a thug, B; your man is a scrub, see She loves me now, she loves you not, yeah all my bitches love me And if you in Atlanta, look up Gucci girl and beep me And we can find a five-star hotel, you can meet me That's a five-star bitch, that's a five-star bitch Now that's a five-star bitch, now that's a five-star bitch If your credit score high, feet and nails stay fly Keep your juice-box wet and your head somethin' fine Then you a five-star bitch, ay you a five-star bitch Ay you a five-star bitch, ay you a five-star bitch I want a five-star chick, I need a five-star chick I need a five-star chick, I want a five-star chick It's your boy Yo Gotti, I do grade A shit I'm the realest nigga walkin', and this the remix And still I'm out here lookin' for a five-star chick When I catch her, I'mma bless her with a five-star kid She a natural born hustla, she ain't chasin' no suckas On a mission for a real nigga, she ain't never fucked a busta So your cars and your jewelry that she really don't excite And all them hatin'-ass hoes in the club want to fight She was born in the A, went to school in D.C Got a job in Dallas, Texas then moved to Tennessee If you ain't a five-star, need to go ahead and face it Fake Gucci, fake Louis, shorty that'll make you basic That ain't a five-star bitch, that ain't a five-star bitch That ain't a five-star bitch, girl ain't a five-star bitch (Trina!) See I'm a five-star bitch cause I ain't that other bitch She been strugglin' for hers, from the womb, I been rich I ain't gotta talk about the money and the shoe game All you gotta do is Google Trina, see the proof, mane Cause ain't none of these hoes doing shows in a recession They cards get declined, now they suffering a depression While I'm spending meals, signin' all kinda deals I'm a five-star bitch eatin' five-star meals My whole lifestyle like "Coming to America" All my Louis luggage, you see my bag how I carry her Walkin' through the airport like I'm in a parade On my hologram, loggin' on to E-Trade That's a five-star bitch, that's a five-star bitch Now that's a five-star bitch, now that's a five-star bitch If your credit score high, feet and nails stay fly Keep your juice-box wet and your head somethin' fine Then you a five-star bitch, ay you a five-star bitch Ay you a five-star bitch, ay you a five-star bitch I want a five-star chick, I need a five-star chick I need a five-star chick, I want a five-star chick I just had a epiphany, I need to go to Tiffany's Fendi on my slippers and my cookies always slippery I don't need help, I pay the bills on time So I be yellin' "Fuck 'em" with a dildo sign Five, little mama, you a three-star I ain't sleepin' when I say I'm in my dream car Oh, did I stutter? Harajuku hyphen Barbie, I'm hot, I think it's time to put the rice in I was in the chair, I was gluin' my weave in When you hit the stage, they was booin' and leavin' Young Money, red flag, no more auditions Ask Lil' Wayne who the five-star bitch is! That's a five-star bitch, that's a five-star bitch Now that's a five-star bitch, now that's a five-star bitch
Writer(s): Onika Tanya Maraj, Radric Davis, Mario Mims, Rodney Ladd, Katrina Taylor Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out