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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
Don't leave your hoes around me (What)
True player for real
Ask (???) Bobby

Hook: Kid Frost
N-I-A rap superstar
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

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