(J. Forte, C. Kirschner, C. Webster)
Produced by Curtis Curtis and Concetta (BMI)
Bass: Concetta Drums/Keys: Curtis Curtis and Concetta

Princess Superstar's year to make a million women and men scream and cry
through the millennium
All up in 'em comin off like deep impact in your drawers because
This hootchie mommy's booty makes Donald Trump look poor
Like Dionne Warwick I'll predict your future trick super kicks
You will listen to this, buy this, 95 cents a damn minute
Admit it, when you were on monkey bars you thought there'd be candy bars,
Marquee stars
Emblazoned up with your name in it
Maybe you need to shoot me into outer space cuz I don't belong here
Not in this place not in this atmosphere
You can take your Palm air Range Rover bitch Plastic tit politics
And pay it in ducats to the Corrupt Conglomerate
Fuck it/ I Don't need to party like it's 1999 cuz by that time, the next day at 9:00
That kid'll be working for me bright and early
Waxin for me, Filin taxes for me-- suckin dick for me

What did you dream, what did you dream you'd be?
Are you where you wanna be?
2G, Kick it off

I was gonna be a scientist with more dough
Marilyn Monroe 2 kids mansion & hi rise co condo mondo
Fresh pond in the backyard
High gates and attack guard
Now look on my card (what's it say?)
Bitch in charge of shit at my big dick day job
I got more leg than any legacy to leave
But I got my head, and peeps and me got plenty Hennessy to pee
Please call Nasa bring my ass back to your planet
See I am something I never thought, never even dreamed I'd be
Princess Superstar
And at 2G When ya gonna be what you wanna be
When ya gonna be what you really want to be?

What did you dream, what did you dream you'd be?
Are you where you wanna be?
2G, Kick it off

(You'll have to ask John Forte the dope shit he kicked next.!)