Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Weeknd
Vocals
Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo
Programming
Thomas Bangalter
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Abel Tesfaye
Songwriter
Thomas Bangalter
Songwriter
Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo
Songwriter
Henry Russell Walter
Songwriter
Jason 'Daheala' Quenneville
Songwriter
Martin McKinney
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Weeknd
Co-Producer
Daft Punk
Producer
Florian Lagatta
Recording Engineer
Martin McKinney
Recording Engineer
Josh Smith
Recording Engineer
Serban Ghenea
Mixing Engineer
John Hanes
Mixing Engineer
Cirkut
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
Ay
I'm tryna put you in the worst mood, ah
P1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah
Milli' point two just to hurt you, ah
All red Lamb' just to tease you, ah
None of these toys on lease too, ah
Made your whole year in a week too, yah
Main bitch outta your league too, ah
Side bitch outta your league too, ah
House so empty, need a centerpiece
20 racks a table, cut from ebony
Cut that ivory into skinny pieces
Then she clean it with her face, man, I love my baby, ah
You talkin' money, need a hearin' aid
You talkin' 'bout me, I don't see the shade
Switch up my style, I take any lane
I switch up my cup, I kill any pain
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Every day a nigga try to test me, ah
Every day a nigga try to end me, ah
Pull off in that Roadster SV, ah
Pockets overweight, gettin' hefty, ah
Comin' for the king, that's a far cry, I
I come alive in the fall time, I
The competition, I don't really listen
I'm in the blue Mulsanne bumpin' New Edition
House so empty, need a centerpiece
20 racks a table, cut from ebony
Cut that ivory into skinny pieces
Then she clean it with her face, man, I love my baby, ah
You talkin' money, need a hearin' aid
You talkin' 'bout me, I don't see the shade
Switch up my style, I take any lane
I switch up my cup, I kill any pain
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Let a nigga brag Pitt
Legend of the fall, took the year like a bandit
Bought mama a crib and a brand-new wagon
Now she hit the grocery shop lookin' lavish
Star Trek roof in that Wraith of Khan
Girls get loose when they hear this song
A hundred on the dash, get me close to God
We don't pray for love, we just pray for cars
House so empty, need a centerpiece
20 racks a table, cut from ebony
Cut that ivory into skinny pieces
Then she clean it with her face, man, I love my baby, ah
You talkin' money, need a hearin' aid
You talkin' 'bout me, I don't see the shade
Switch up my style, I take any lane
I switch up my cup, I kill any pain
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Look what you've done
I'm a motherfuckin' starboy
Writer(s): Thomas Bangalter, Martin Daniel Mckinney, Abel Tesfaye, Paul Emmanuel De Homem-christo, Jason Quenneville, Walter Henry
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