Post Malone feat. 21 Savage – Rockstar

Rockstar lyrics

I’ve been fuckin’ hoes and poppin’ pillies

Man, I feel just like a rockstar

All my brothers got that gas

And they always be smokin’ like a Rasta

Fuckin’ with me, call up on a Uzi

And show up, man them the shottas

When my homies pull up on your block

They make that thing go grrra-ta-ta-ta

Switch my whip, came back in black

I’m startin’ sayin’, “Rest in peace to Bon Scott”

Close that door, we blowin’ smoke

She ask me light a fire like I’m Morrison

Act a fool on stage

Prob’ly leave my fuckin’ show in a cop car

Shit was legendary

Threw a TV out the window of the Montage

Cocaine on the table, liquor pourin’, don’t give a damn

Dude, your girlfriend is a groupie, she just tryna get in

Sayin’,“I’m with the band”

Now she actin’ outta pocket

Tryna grab up from my pants

Hundred bitches in my trailer say they ain’t got a man

And they all brought a friend

Yeah

I’ve been fuckin’ hoes and poppin’ pillies

Man, I feel just like a rockstar

All my brothers got that gas

And they always be smokin’ like a Rasta

Fuckin’ with me, call up on a Uzi

And show up, man them the shottas

When my homies pull up on your block

They make that thing go grrra-ta-ta-ta

I’ve been in the Hills fuckin’ superstars

Feelin’ like a pop star

Drankin’ Henny, bad bitches jumpin’ in the pool

And they ain’t got on no bra

Hit her from the back, pullin’ on her tracks

And now she screamin’ out, “no más”

They like, “Savage, why you got a twelve car garage

And you only got six cars?”

I ain’t with the cakin’,how you kiss that?

Your wifey say I’m lookin’ like a whole snack

Green hundreds in my safe, I got old racks

L.A. bitches always askin’ where the coke at

Livin’ like a rockstar, smash out on a cop car

Sweeter than a Pop-Tart, you know you are not hard

I done made the hot chart, ’member I used to trap hard

Livin’ like a rockstar,

I’m livin’ like a rockstar

I’ve been fuckin’ hoes and poppin’ pillies

Man, I feel just like a rockstar

All my brothers got that gas

And they always be smokin’ like a Rasta

Fuckin’ with me, call up on a Uzi

And show up, man them the shottas

When my homies pull up on your block

They make that thing go grrra-ta-ta-ta