This is a song about "Paper stars"

She pretty but she insecure as baby-mother scars

And baby we could carve our names into the stars

White rappers make it quicker if we talk like stars

They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box

Whole lot of cobras with dope like soap bars

Shoot for the moon, rocket-launch for stars/

Everyone has heard of the stars

When bret hart meet brett farve

Who fly? i'm a red eye with eye drops

I keep my gaze glanced on stars

Listen busters, scarier when i finger fuck her

I'm gettin paper, yeah i get paper,

Sitting in the hay while i'm watching all the stars

Trying to say goodbye to the glamorous chains and cars

My friend's father got shot, it was homicide, he would see stars,

Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars