Everybody wants the hero, who just the man? Who fights his devils and does the best he can Everybody wants a playa, I just be friends
Every, everybody a superstar Who got cars and ice, walks into the ghetto get bar Makes all the girls look think Yeah, sista he got money and thangs but is he for you
He's a post brotha with money in his pocket He got everything a could want, think maybe he don't High brotha with money in his pocket He got everything a girl could want, think maybe he
Some sistas want the But mentally can he play ball Dumbfounded by out the ghetto His oh, so so small
Get the cream, get the Get the cars, he to go far But how far is too far
Come love, chicka love, let me holla at you 'Cause what you got is worth than a dollar or two Soil another nigga's game usually I do But you my girl and I can that its bothering you
This mother, ah must that he a father to you You got vision but boys the view I know he payin' yo to get the car fixin'
He got or is he pulp fiction Heard he be clubs Trickin' like he got big pub Is it his or him that you in love with
You on some shit but you was superficial I ain't when rent's due is trip what a chick do You don't like his the way he looks And you said that his breath
But all of added up Doesn't a fresh mink Let's who you are You the moon baby so the superstar
'Cause he's a high post brotha, money in his He got everything a girl could want, I think he don't High post brotha, money in his He got everything a girl want, I think maybe he don't
he don't I think he don't he don't I maybe he don't I think maybe he
I think he don't he don't I think maybe he Maybe he I think he don't I think he don't
I maybe he don't I think he don't I think he don't
Don't, don't, don't, don't, I maybe he don't I maybe he don't