Lyrics
CashMoneyAP (pop star)
They gon' tell you I went
They gon' tell you I went
They gon' tell you I went
Pop star (pop star)
What they gon' tell you? (huh)

They prolly tell you I went pop (huh?)
Until a nigga play with me and he get popped (yeah)
I'm on front row at BET without my Glock (huh?)
I'm ready to beat a nigga up like I'm The Rock (let's go)
And she ready to sweep a nigga up because he hot (mm, mm)
She ready to eat a nigga up until he lock (yeah)
She hit the brakes and speed it up like she a car (hmm)
Now she got her hands behind her head like I'm a cop (huh)
I told her "Fuck the police", yeah

She right beside me and she sendin' nudes (let's go)
You fuck my bitch? That's cool, I'm fuckin' niggas bitches, too
If you try my shoes, they ain't gon' fit, man, you wear different shoes (uh, uh)
Had to dumb it down for them to bite, now it's time to switch the groove (okay, okay)
I pull up smooth wit' my lil' bae, but I coulda came wit' your boo (uh-huh)
If you wit' the shit like I'm wit' the shit, when they play they gon' make the news (yeah)
I was hittin' your sis on Sunday at your grandma place, she cool (Uh-huh)
And if she raised you, I don't want her plate, no, I ain't even take her food (no thanks)

Baby bougie, he be turnin' down all kinda hoes
He took my bitch in Nike, I'm rockin' designer clothes
I told her "Sorry, I'm not fuckin', baby I'm not a hoe"
Had bitches knockin' at my door like they was Domino's

They gon' say I went pop (huh?)
Until a nigga play with me and he get popped (yeah)
I'm on front row at BET without my Glock (huh?)
I'm ready to beat a nigga up like I'm The Rock (let's go)
And she ready to sweep a nigga up because he hot (mm, mm)
She ready to eat a nigga up until he lock (yeah)
She hit the brakes and speed it up like she a car (hmm)
Now she got her hands behind her head like I'm a cop (huh)
I told her "Fuck the police", yeah

Takin' a trip to Mexico, I'm comin' right back in town (Orale)
I sell a lot perico, been tryna slow it down (tryna slow it down)
Takin' a four, I put a two on that and then I make it bounce (boing)
I took a thirty-six to a hundred and eight and weigh up every ounce
I'm a plug, workin' a drug hub out in H-town (hey)
Hey, what up? You my lil' love bug, you with Gates now
Penetrate while I grip her waist, push her face down (yeah)
Concentrate (boom), this that bass, makin' great sounds (boom, boom, boom)
Got a graveyard up under my belt, more murders than New Mexico
Thirty round extension, mini Glizzy and I'm servin' coke
I'm up in rank in the cartel, I got control in this bitch (nyoom)
I still book you for a show and get you showed in this bitch
Swear you want a don dada, bitch, we Puerto Rico gangland
A hundred bricks ain't nuttin', I pushed a button and make the plane land
Show some of you niggas how to grind up out the hole
Then I tied ya in with 'migo, then I got you another load

Yeah, he just told you how to pop (huh?)
Until a nigga play with me and he get popped (yeah)
I'm on front row at BET without my Glock (huh?)
I'm ready to beat a nigga up like I'm The Rock (let's go)
And she ready to sweep a nigga up because he hot (mm, mm)
She ready to eat a nigga up until he lock (yeah)
She hit the brakes and speed it up like she a car (hmm)
Now she got her hands behind her head like I'm a cop (huh)
I told her "Fuck the police", yeah

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Alex Christian Jean Petit, Jonathan Lyndale Kirk, Mathias Daniel Liyew




Videos
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DaBaby - POP STAR (feat. Kevin Gates)
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