Tragic lyrics

[Intro]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
f*ck n*gga, yeah, it could get tragic

[Chorus]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
f*ck n*gga, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n*gga disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords

[Verse]
Hand on my gun, I'm a tool boy
I'ma shoot first, I'm a rude boy
.40 gon j*rk like a new boy
I'm gettin tired of these new boys
Wait, I am a new boy, huh
Feel like a vet but I'm fresh like a rookie
I'm f*cking your b*tch, yeah, I'm up in 'em cookies
This b*tch came from Jersey, she thick call her Snookie
Uh-huh, uh-huh
I put a brick on my arm
Cursed diamonds on me, that's a charm
Big .40 on me, I'm armed
Uh-huh, uh-huh
That b*tch ride di*k like a car
I turn yo' hoe to a star
Tape her like a VCR
[Chorus]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
f*ck n*gga, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n*gga disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
f*ck n*gga, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n*gga disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords

[Outro]
Rockstar status, in the cut with an automatic
Run up on me, you don't want no static
f*ck n*gga, yeah, it could get tragic
Make a n*gga disappear like magic
Gun like abra-kadabra, yeah
My choppa like Lenny Kravitz, yeah
My bullets look like guitar chords