( Verse One )

( Bronzson )

Through the lights, cameras and action, glamour, glitters, 'nd gold
The rubberband stack of dollars, not easy to fold
At a level where the Devil do compete for your soul
Same rope they hang you with, you try to use to reach for ya goal
I suppose a side of you always wanted to blow
Adored the lime-lights, sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll
Watch us get the crowd lit, walk away, explode
Design a line finer than Vera Wang or Kenneth Cole
Land of Oz, you attracted to them yellow brick roads
Bit the apple along wit' Eve, couldn't tell a bitch no
I ain't tryin' to knock ya hustle, you just learnin' the rope
Like the dealer who used to be the addict, snortin' the dope
To jump start, take more than jus' a couple of jolts, I know
Some Rappers who keep written bars inside of their coat
For these critics, wit' their opinions on jus' who is the GOAT
Results a shock you three thousand volts, short circuits 'nd
Transformers, then get the crowd swarmin', the numbers enormous
We spit on 'em, they bring a towel and sing our chorus
Fanglorious, do it big, still notorious
Dead the track, said the coroner
(It's just our)

( Chorus )

Star quality, God-body inside of me
My philosophy written with no apology
Under the impression, you was tryin' to follow me
Was it a social thing, or star quality

( repeat 1x )

( Verse Two )

( Ern-Money )

Let's be specific, that little clout is not that terrific, horrific
How these clowns forgot that I'm gifted, uplifted
Move 'em out your life, things shifted, prolific
Conjurin' up these words from the mystic
Not simplistic, don't be sore, you need Blistex
Lip-stick on my collar from your girl, call her biscuit
Tisket, tasket, put all your eggs in one basket
Times are drastic, see right through 'em like plastic
Saran Wrap, it's crap, can I get a hand clap
Oh snap, the Cak' is where him and his man's at
Can't stand that, want my credit be ya ransack
Stand back, we roll out and we jam pack
No jaw-jack, y'all can't call jack'
Y'all just fall back, and let 'em just fall flat
What should we call it, let 'em tell it, we're prehistoric
Same old chorus, but the skills are catharsis
That raw shit, comin' straight out the faucet
Like Flint, Michigan, don't think they listenin'
Keep pissin' in the wind, my friend, get off that Lean
This is the team, Bronzson and Money, know what I mean
It's star quality

( Break )

( Chorus )