5 Star Hotel Lyrics

Ay, you know I'm lookin' for a five-star bitch talkin' bout burr
I'm talkin' homegirl be lookin' like she just stepped outta a magazine
I'm talkin' niggas I'm gonna be somethin' serious

Gotti here go twelve bars
Gucci Mane got nine cars
We don't call 'em dimes no more
'09 we call 'em five stars
I'm a five-star nigga, this a five-star clique
That's a 645, this that new M6
Pay her bills, get her hair fixed
Might even pay her rent
And the way she give it to me
Best money I ever spent
I can't even lie, I'm so super high
Do not need her, will not keep her
Unless she is fly
Gucci Mane's a thug, B; your man is a scrub, see
She loves me now, she loves you not
Yea all my bitches love me
And if you in Atlanta
Look up Gucci, girl and beep me
And we can find a five-star hotel you can meet me

[Chorus]
That's a five-star chick
Now that's a five-star chick, if your credit score high
Feet and nails stay fly, keep your juice-box wet
And your head somethin' fine
You a five-star chick
I want a five-star chick
I need a five-star chick
I need a five-star chick
I want a five-star chick

It's your boy Yo Gotti, I do grade A shit
I'm the realist nigga walkin'
And this the remix and still I'm out here lookin'
For a five-star chick
When I catch her, I'mma bless her
With a five-star kid
She a natural born hustla
She ain't chasin' no suckas
On a mission for a real nigga
She ain't never fucked a busta
So your cars and your jewelry that she really don't excite
And all them hatin'-ass hoes in the club want to fight
She was born in the A, went to school in D.C
Got a job in Dallas, Texas then moved to Tennessee
If you ain't a five-star, need to go ahead and face it
Fake Gucci, fake Louis, shorty that'll make you basic

[Chorus]

See I'm a five-star chick
Cause I ain't that other chick
She been strugglin' for hers
From the womb I been rich
I ain't gotta talk about the money in the shoe game
All you gotta do is Google Trina
See the proof, Mane
Cause ain't none of these hoes, doing shows in a recession
They cards get declined, now they suffering a depression
While I'm spending meals, signin' all kinda deals
I'm a five-star chick, eatin' five-star meals
My whole lifestyle like Coming To America
All my Louis luggage
You see my bag, how I carry her
Walkin' through the airport
Like I'm in a parade on my hologram
Loggin' on to E-Trade

[Chorus]

I just had a epiphany, I need to go to Tiffany's
Fendi on my slippers, and my cookies always slippery
I don't need help, I pay the bills on time
So I be yellin' fuck 'em, with a dildo sign
Bye little Mama, you a three-star
I ain't sleepin' when I say I'm in my dream car
Oh, did I stutter, Harajuku hyphen
Barbie
I'm hot I think its time to put the rice in
I was in the chair, I was gluin' my weave in
When you hit the stage
They was booin' and leavin'
Young Money, red flag, no more auditions
Ask Lil' Wayne who the five-star chick is