StarSigns

[Hook: AKA]
I’ve been winning for a long time
I think it’s written in my starsign
Sauce, soul fire
Wish you can see it with your own eyes
Kick out the shoes, hop in the swimming pool (Splash)
Who got the juice, who got the Liquifruit? (Cash)
Who got the salt, who got the minerals? (Man)
We at the top, we at the pinnacle

[Verse 1: AKA]
Finally made it to the big time
Came a long way from the underground
Tryna figure out
How to keep my feelings inside
While I’m looking out, I don’t fuck around
I been getting so much money niggas probably think I’m signed to Mabala now
Summer after summer, if you never done it
You gon have to shut your fuckin mouth
I’m a god now
Let the Lamborghini doors down
Check the scoreboard now
All my niggas wanna know how to score most sound
Fuck this material shit
Don’t give a fuck what your vehicle is
If you can’t move crowds
How many eras?
How many times I invented a whole new style
I remember niggas used to give up on their dreams to go do house
Now I look around everybody got a 22 carat gold tooth smile
I don’t even want the credit I just wanna be remembered
Even young niggas coming up saying
“Mega you old school now, but how you still so relevant?
In an era where niggas sounds so American”
No pride in their own heritage
Whole vibes so negative
Ain’t nobody gonna remember them
Dose of your own medicine
House rent on the outfit, that’s credit
All my niggas on the couch here made it out here on merit
Section full of yes men and they all got vendettas
Best friends turn to ex-friends who worry about aesthetics
Fuck em let’s get it

[Hook: AKA]
Kick out the shoes, hop in the swimming pool (Splash)
Who got the juice, who got the Liquifruit? (Cash)
Who got the salt, who got the minerals? (Mhen)
We at the top, we at the pinnacle

[Verse 2: AKA]
All of my niggas is litty
All of my bitches is pretty
Golden child of my city
Hundred cows for the wedding
Overseas like Benny
Kicking ass like Kenny
Cheddar cheese that's dairy
Bucket seats like jelly
Fan love racked up
Met plugs at the embassy
Don’t shit where you sleep
Don’t eat with your enemy
Mask on, mask off
I keep looking through your energy
Man up, act tough
Why you niggas so sensitive...
Slide in the DM with vaseline
All of my niggas smoke gasoline
I’m busy living my fantasy
I ain’t fucking with you backpack to the city rap activities
Jam packed itinerary
I ain’t looking back like I’m driving meter cab or a black limousine
Rack city rack rack city bitch
Wack niggas catch guillotines
Can’t match my ability, is you feeling me?
Yeah we on top of the pyramid
Niggas smoking that cheap shit
Still sipping on Benylin
All my niggas rock vetements
Y’all need to finish your weet-bix
Time to reup on your vitamins
I got two mandela pieces
That’s what I call born free shit
Used to beat box now Reebok
Throw me on some Bruce Lee shit 170 gram t-shirt
That Givenchy shit
No Dominos pizza

[Hook: AKA]
I’ve been winning for a long time
I think it’s written in my starsign
Sauce, soul fire
Wish you can see it with your own eyes
Kick out the shoes, hop in the swimming pool (Splash)
Who got the juice, who got the Liquifruit? (Cash)
Who got the sauce, who got the minerals? (Mhen)
We at the top, we at the pinnacle

[Verse 3: Stogie T]
Supa Mega had to promise me
Don’t forget about your honesty
You gon know his running like an allergy
When a nigga ego match his balance sheet
Me and B share a legacy
Of bad grammar and a booking fee
Both grammars were bad mannered
But they had character you couldn't tweet
Different cloth see the two piece
Stogie big enough for two me’s
You thick as ox skin, think I lost it
Written off like I couldn’t free it
How ironic so much Gucci but no material or music
I’m iconic, Out in public I say your name you wouldn’t do shit
Different nigga no comparing
You still living off your parents
Goofy lyrics on the air
They took the Mickey I don’t care
My children in Disneyland, Paris
This the sauce, This the antidote
Got me traveling through Charles de Gaulle
Stamps in Lusaka I'm abroad, can't get Mufasa'd by antelopes (no)

[Hook: AKA]
House rent on the outfit, that’s credit
All my niggas on the couch here made it out here on merit
Section full of guest men and they all got vendettas
Best friends turn to ex-friends who worry about aesthetics
Fuck em let’s get it
Kick out the shoes, hop in the swimming pool (Splash)
Who got the juice, who got the liquor fruit? (Cash)
Who got the salt, who got the minerals? (Mhen)
We at the top, we at the pinnacle