Karaoke Rockstar (clean) by DaBaby, Roddy Ricch — sing along with lyrics on Singa

Rockstar (clean) Karaoke

Roddy RicchDaBaby

LyricsRockstar (clean)

Woo, woo

I pull up like

How you pull up, Baby

How you pull up

I pull up

Let's go

Brand new Lamborghini,

f*ck a cop car

With the pistol on my

hip like I'm a cop

Have you ever met

a real n*gga rockstar

This ain't no guitar,

b*tch, this a Glock

My Glock told me to

promise you gon'

squeeze me

You better let me go the

day you need me

Soon as you up me

on that n*gga,

get to bustin

And if I ain't enough,

go get the chop

It's safe to say I

earned it, ain't a n*gga

gave me nothin'

I'm ready to hop out

on a n*gga,

get to bustin'

Know you heard me say,

"You play, you lay,"

don't make me

push the button

Full of pain, dropped

enough tears to fill

up a f*ckin' bucket

Goin' for buckets,

I bought a chopper

I got a big drum,

it hold a hundred,

ain't goin' for nothin'

I'm ready to air it

out on all these n*ggas,

I can see 'em runnin'

Just talked to my mama,

she hit me on FaceTime

just to check up on

me and my brother

I'm really the baby,

she know that her

youngest son was

always guaranteed to

get the money

She know that her

baby boy was always

guaranteed to

get the loot

She know what I do,

she know 'fore I run

from a n*gga,

I'ma pull it

out and shoot

PTSD, I'm always

waking up in cold

sweats like I got the flu

My daughter a G,

she saw me kill a

n*gga in front of her

before the age of two

And I'll kill

another n*gga too

'Fore I let another

n*gga do

somethin' to you

Long as you know

that, don't let

nobody tell

you different

Daddy love you

Brand new Lamborghini,

f*ck a cop car

With the pistol on

my hip like I'm a cop

Have you ever met a

real n*gga rockstar

This ain't no guitar,

b*tch, this a Glock

My Glock told me

to promise you gon'

squeeze me

You better let me go

the day you need me

Soon as you up me

on that n*gga, get

to bustin'

And if I ain't enough,

go get the chop

Keep a Glocky when I

ride in the Suburban

'Cause the codeine had

a young n*gga swervin'

I got the mop, watch me

wash 'em like detergent

And I'm ballin', that's

why it's diamonds

on my jersey

Slide on opps' side

and flip the block

back, yeah, yeah

My junior popped him

and left him

lopsided, yeah, yeah

We spin his block,

got the rebound,

Dennis Rodman

Fool me one time, you

can't cross me again

Twelve hundred

horsepower, I get lost

in the wind

If he talkin' on the

yard, the pen' dogs'll

take his chin

Maybach SUV for

my refugees

Buy blocks in the hood,

put money in the streets

I was solo when the

opps caught me at

the gas station

Had it on me, thirty

thousand, thought it

was my last day

But they ain't even

want no smoke

If I had to choose it,

murder what she wrote

Brand new Lamborghini,

f*ck a cop car

With the pistol on my

hip like I'm a cop

Have you ever met

a real n*gga rockstar

This ain't no guitar,

b*tch, this a Glock

My Glock told me to

promise you gon'

squeeze me

You better let me go the

day you need me

Soon as you up me

on that n*gga,

get to bustin'

And if I ain't enough,

go get the chop

Composer
Ross Joseph Iv Portaro, Jonathan Lyndale Kirk, Rodrick Wayne Jr Moore
Lyrics
Ross Joseph Iv Portaro, Jonathan Lyndale Kirk, Rodrick Wayne Jr Moore
Publisher
Warner Chappell Music Scand Ab, Universal/mca Music Scand Ab, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd