Artist: Flow Click f/ Kid Frost Album: Flow Click Song: California Superstar Typed by: Wammy Giveaway [Verse 1: Kid Frost] To all my hustlers (Hustlers) Players and pimps (Yeah) Busters and symps (Yeah) Bloods and Crips (What) Worldwide heavyweights, pimpin' them bitches (That's right) Born to clock riches, born to hit switches Break wide from the haters Mob in my haters Two Mexican pimpiasos No one can fade us Kingpins, made men Playboys in the play pen Took the game from the hoody And shot it out to Las Vegas Swoop in the coup Frost in the bronze With two bad bitches into gettin' it on (Getting it on) Lickin' the cat, man, the coochie lookin' fat She said she loved my voice and the way that I rap (Way that I rap) And just like that Man, the ass gets tatted I spread my game all over the map No Don't leave your hoes around me (What) True player for real Ask (???) Bobby Hook: Kid Frost C-A-L-I-F-O-R N-I-A rap superstar C-A-L-I-F-O-R N-I-A rap superstar Repeat Hook (Verse 2) [Kid Frost] I started small time, coke, the killer dope game Pushin' rock on the block, I ain't no dope mayne Now I got a deuce rag and I'm rollin' hard For the suckers and the heinas on the boulevard Stand in the sunset Handle my pistola Little John Gotti From Baja California One part's pure, three part's baking soda Take it out the microwave before it bubble over [T-Swoop] Hey yo, Frost, pass the mic, California style tight (Come on) East L.A., Pac Town, shakin' up black and white (What, white) Got money to feed the needy (Uh) But I'm too greedy (Too greedy) Still fuckin' up walls with cryon on graffiti It's a heaty head banger California ganger (What) Eses roll deep, so many, we all strangers More nephews than Snoop (What) I'm rollin' in my Coup '78 DeVille, real ill fella T-Swoop Repeat Hook Twice [Verse 3: T-Swoop] The game don't stop, Swoop and Frost keep rollin' We flippin' bricks (Flippin' bricks) And the money keep unfoldin' The untold truth, smoke wood in the hood, yo But now it's all chron', everyday, all good Snaps and crops Be makin' the world turn And mad bitches, bad bitches givin' a bad burn They burn you for your chips, house, ride and your clique Some motherfuckin' bitches even burn you on your dick, so Be slick when you runnin' in the streets Not just bitches, but the homies They be on the creep I done lost many friends Yo, I can't pretend To the music, to the women, and most recently, the end, see (What, what, what) Everybody's cool and they seem to get along But you could tell a true homie when that deal goes wrong Dollars and centavos, chicks in El Dorados Gonna have me on the map, in twenty-two new estados Repeat Hook Twice