Big Sean - Who You Are (Superstar) lyrics
Big Seant [Sean Michael Leonard Anderson] Santa Monica, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Big Sean - Who You Are Superstar lyrics]
Callin' my number one
Front row at your audience
All these cameras and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm always on, I'm always on
(I'll be your groupie, baby)
Aye, woah, woah, look
These b**ches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
F**kin' with a nigga, love to take it too far
You the one that they got up on mood board
When I flick you from the back
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are i know who you are
Your face buried in silk
I hop, I'm on top, I'm the king of the hill
Ex wrapped around your finger
He wanna marry you still
I'm talkin' shit in your ear
You showin' off in the mirror
I match your sex drive
I'm teachin' you how to steer
I put you in every gear, yeah
I ask her do she love it, she said "Daddy
Hell yeah"
She deserve a tail number and a Telfar
(For real)
You don't need a man, you need a manager
Hold up
You don't need a man, you need a cameraman
I'm not that nigga that you
Call that's never answering
These stupid niggas fumbling a real b**ch
They can't handle it
Aye, Tesla truck, pickin' it up
Dickin' her down, liftin' her down
She drop it again, it's deluxe
She a superstar chick
Give her superstar dick
F**k around and have a superstar kid
Man, these b**ches finna hate you
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
F**kin' with a nigga, love to take it too far
You the one that they got up on mood board
When I flick you from the back
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are i know who you are
All she need's a platform
All she need is somebody who gon'
Go to bat for her
Soon as she leave the house
Make her back for her
Who gon' hold that ass down and
Make her wanna clap for it
Clap for it, and you the best at it
Sold out shows jumpin' like a pep rally
Girl, you poppin'
I'ma f**k you at the Met Gala
We made a mess at it, aye
And f**k these hatin' ass b**ches
Hope they take it personal
And you know they hate as
Long as the work flow
Pieces, Scorpio, waters, I surf those
Pussy fire, I might have to go no shirt mode
And you blessed, I know Creflo and Kirk know
You a superstar, just never go commercial
Right stroke, left stroke
That's the best stroke
Death stroke, tongue all down your throat
You don't ever happen to people like me
You can be anywhere but you
Where you wanna be, yeah
Shooting star in the limelight
My sweet thing
I'd buy you this f**kin' world
'Cause you love me for me
Man, these b**ches finna hate you
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
I had to do it straight, straight up
You know who you was, I know who you are
I know who you are i know who you are
Callin' my number one
Front row at your audience
All these cameras and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm always yours, I'm always yours
Front row at your audience
All these cameras and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm always on, I'm always on
(I'll be your groupie, baby)
Aye, woah, woah, look
These b**ches finna hate you, you a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
F**kin' with a nigga, love to take it too far
You the one that they got up on mood board
When I flick you from the back
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are i know who you are
Your face buried in silk
I hop, I'm on top, I'm the king of the hill
Ex wrapped around your finger
He wanna marry you still
I'm talkin' shit in your ear
You showin' off in the mirror
I match your sex drive
I'm teachin' you how to steer
I put you in every gear, yeah
I ask her do she love it, she said "Daddy
Hell yeah"
She deserve a tail number and a Telfar
(For real)
You don't need a man, you need a manager
Hold up
You don't need a man, you need a cameraman
I'm not that nigga that you
Call that's never answering
These stupid niggas fumbling a real b**ch
They can't handle it
Aye, Tesla truck, pickin' it up
Dickin' her down, liftin' her down
She drop it again, it's deluxe
She a superstar chick
Give her superstar dick
F**k around and have a superstar kid
Man, these b**ches finna hate you
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
F**kin' with a nigga, love to take it too far
You the one that they got up on mood board
When I flick you from the back
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
Aye, I know who you are i know who you are
All she need's a platform
All she need is somebody who gon'
Go to bat for her
Soon as she leave the house
Make her back for her
Who gon' hold that ass down and
Make her wanna clap for it
Clap for it, and you the best at it
Sold out shows jumpin' like a pep rally
Girl, you poppin'
I'ma f**k you at the Met Gala
We made a mess at it, aye
And f**k these hatin' ass b**ches
Hope they take it personal
And you know they hate as
Long as the work flow
Pieces, Scorpio, waters, I surf those
Pussy fire, I might have to go no shirt mode
And you blessed, I know Creflo and Kirk know
You a superstar, just never go commercial
Right stroke, left stroke
That's the best stroke
Death stroke, tongue all down your throat
You don't ever happen to people like me
You can be anywhere but you
Where you wanna be, yeah
Shooting star in the limelight
My sweet thing
I'd buy you this f**kin' world
'Cause you love me for me
Man, these b**ches finna hate you
You a superstar
You know who you was, I know who you are
I had to do it straight, straight up
You know who you was, I know who you are
I know who you are i know who you are
Callin' my number one
Front row at your audience
All these cameras and you still alone
My phone is always on
I'm always yours, I'm always yours
