Who You Are (Superstar) lyrics - Big Sean

Calling my number one

Front row at your audience

All these cameras, and you still alone

My phone is always on

I'm only yours, I'm always yours

Aye, whoa, whoa, look

These bitches finna hate you, you a superstar

You know who you was, I know who you are

Fucking with a nigga, let her take it too far

You the one that they got up on they mood board

When I flick you from the back, you a superstar

You know who you was, I know who you are

Aye, I know who you are

I know who you are

Yo' face buried in silk

I hop, I'm on top, I'm the king of the hill

Ex wrapped around your finger, he wanna marry you still

I'm talking shit in your ear, you showing off in the mirror

I match your sex drive, I'm teaching you how to steer

I put you in every gear, yeah

I ask her do she love it

She say, "Daddy, hell yeah"

She deserve a tail number and a Telfar

You don't need a man, you need a man as your hold up

You don't need a man, you need a cameraman

I'm not that nigga that you call that's never answering

These stupid nigga fumbling a real bitch, they can't handle it, aye

Tesla truck, picking it up

Dickin' her down, liftin' her up

She drop it again, it's a deluxe

She a superstar chick, give her superstar dick

Fuck around and have a superstar kid, aye

Man, these bitches finna hate you, you a superstar

You know who you was, I know who you are

Fucking with a nigga, let her take it too far

You the one that they got up on they mood board

When I flick you from the back, you a superstar

You know who you was, I know who you are

Aye, I know who you are

I know who you are

All she need's a platform

All she need is somebody who gon' go to bat for her

Soon as she leave the house, make her come back for it

Who gon' hold that ass down and make her want to clap for it?

Clap for it, and you the best at it

Sold out shows, jumpin' like a pep rally

Girl, you poppin', I'ma fuck you at the Met Gala, we made a mess at it

Aye, and fuck these hating ass bitches, hope they take it personal

And you know the hate last as long as the workflow

Pisces, Scorpio, water signs, surf those

Pussy fire, I might have to go no-shirt mode

And you blessed, I know Creflo and Kirk know

You a superstar, just never go commercial

Right stroke, left stroke, that's the best stroke

Death stroke, tongue all down your throat

Oh, ah, you don't ever happen to people like me

You could be anywhere, but you're where you wanna be, yeah

Shooting star in the limelight, my sweet thing

And I'd buy you this whole fucking world

'Cause you love me for me, yeah, yeah

These bitches finna hate you, you a superstar

You know who you was, I know who you are

You the one that they got up on they mood board

You know who you was, I know who you are

I know who you are

I know who you are

Calling my number one

Front row at your audience

All these cameras, and you still alone

My phone is always on

I'm only yours, I'm always yours