Ghetto Superstar Lyrics by Roddy Ricch

Roddy Ricch, G Herbo, and Doe Boy Lyrics

By Ademola Bashorun

Roddy Ricch features G Herbo and Doe Boy on his ‘Ghetto Superstar’ track, read the song’s official lyrics in a few scrolls. Ghetto Superstar was co-produced by CuBeatz, Mustard, Southside, Klimperboy, and Vision EXE.

Roddy Ricch, G Herbo & Doe Boy – Ghetto Superstar Lyrics

Intro
I got a bullet with your name on it, fucking kill ’em
So fuck your eyes, as I sip this Glock, we twisting livers
I got a bullet with your name on it, fucking kill ’em
(Southside on the track, yeah)
So fuck your eyes, as I sip this Glock, we twisting livers
(Mustard on the beat, ho’)

Chorus: Roddy Ricch
My money don’t sleep (Sleep), I’m slow to speak (Slow to speak)
Pour the whole P (Woo, woo), It’s holy (Woo, woo)
Take two-fifty (Yeah, yeah), right overseas (Yeah, yeah)
I’m a ghetto superstar, like I’m ODB (I’m ODB)
My closet clean (Yeah, yeah), rock everything (Yeah, yeah)
He wanna shoot it, shoot it, shoot it, let it ring (Woo, woo)
Take everything (Woo, woo), and flee the scene (Woo, woo)
Real red fiend, ready for anything

Verse 1: Roddy Ricch
My young niggas seals, they popping off, hightail and drop ’em off
Internet, they tough as hell, outside, they cotton soft
Drink got a nigga high as hell, I was damn near nodding off
Floor seats, I be fly as hell, wrist frost, I could buy a loft
Three-fifty my service fee, an extra one is courtesy (Ooh, yeah)
Had the Phantom out in London, told ’em “Close the curtains, please”
And she be (And she be), with me every week (With me every week)
Miami Beach, with Doe Bee off a tee (A tee)
New Fazo’s, I don’t crease ’em up, my Maybach creeping up
They don’t pat me down at no club, I gotta keep it tucked
All the gang ties rooted, like a fucking tree trunk
Just make sure you put some respect on it when you speak of us

Chorus: Roddy Ricch & Doe Boy
My money don’t sleep, I’m slow to speak
Pour the whole P (Let’s go), It’s holy (Let’s go)
Take two-fifty (Let’s go), right overseas (Go)
I’m a ghetto superstar, like I’m ODB (Doe Beezy)
My closet clean, rock everything (No, phew)
He wanna shoot it, shoot it, shoot it, let it ring (Baow, baow, baow)
Take everything and flee the scene (Go)
Real red fiend, ready for anything (Oh, really?)

Verse 2: Doe Boy
I hit Roddy line, I saw the opps, I got the tee (Go)
When B-I-G D-O-E got the tee, it’s R.I.P. (Baow, baow)
Big Doe Beezy got the tee, I sip dead niggas when I drink (Beezy)
Get your bitch up off my D, I’m not my Cuban, I don’t link (Come here)
I don’t link, I don’t even answer my phone, ho’, I don’t speak
I got rich, I pay a maid now, but I’ll still a sweep (Baow, baow)
Sweep his ass like seven games, I come through clutch, I did a three (Swish)
I’ma up this big ass switch, you get a scratch on this big B (Skrrt)
Bentley, stripper so amazed, so I’m flying Benji’s (Mwah, come here)
Opps said it’s on sight, too bad my enemies don’t match energy
Still riding round through Cleveland 

in a droptop, ain’t going like Kennedy
Catch up, I got Mustard, bitch, send my deposit instantly (Oh, really?)

Interlude: Doe Boy
Big Doe Beezy, nigga, top shotta, Don Dada
You know what the fuck going on, Double R, what’s popping? (Grrah, boom, boom)
Yeah, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
I got a switch on me, hold on
Hold on, hold on, roll the Double R window down real quick
Pussy, grrah

Chorus: Roddy Ricch
My money don’t sleep (Sleep), I’m slow to speak (Slow to speak)
Pour the whole P (Woo, woo), It’s holy (Woo, woo)
Take two-fifty (Yeah, yeah), right overseas (Yeah, yeah)
I’m a ghetto superstar, like I’m ODB (I’m ODB)
My closet clean (Yeah, yeah), rock everything (Yeah, yeah)
He wanna shoot it, shoot it, shoot it, let it ring (Woo, woo)
Take everything (Woo, woo), and flee the scene (Woo, woo)
Real red fiend, ready for anything (Woo)

Verse 3: G Herbo
Shoot, don’t need a screen, I’m with the dream team (G Herbo)
Reds on, all we knew was green beams (Grrt)
I ain’t telling nothing, but I seen things (I seen it all)
Ain’t no failing us, we like the SAT’s, uh, ayy
Went from wintertime, rolling up on G’s to L.A. breeze
Moved to L.A., hoes can’t get enough of me, they on they knees
Spent a million, I can’t wait ’til I beat my case, I’m like “Please”
Quick to show a nigga this barrel, like a sheriff, I’m like “Freeze”
Quick to buy new Vs, quick to buy VVs
Make her get fly like me, make her ride like me
But I can’t trust no hoes, they quick to lie, like me
If she don’t flex and she don’t front
I give her a diamond, Saint Laurent, my money don’t sleep

Chorus: Roddy Ricch & G Herbo
My money don’t sleep (Ayy), I’m slow to speak (I’m slow to speak)
Pour the whole P (Whole P), It’s holy (It’s holy)
Take two-fifty (Two-fifty), right overseas (Right overseas)
I’m a ghetto superstar, like I’m ODB (Like ODB, know that)
My closet clean, rock everything (Rock everything )
He wanna shoot it, shoot it, shoot it, let it ring (He go “Brr”)
Take everything and flee the scene (Flee the scene)
Real red fiend (Real red fiend), ready for anything (Huh, huh, huh?)

Outro
I got a bullet with your name on it, fucking kill ’em
So fuck your eyes, as I sip this Glock, we twisting livers
I got a bullet with your name on it, fucking kill ’em
So fuck your eyes, as I sip this Glock, we twisting livers