[Verse 1: Turf Talk]

P-I-M-P, that’s me, man

Shows for free, and then, broke bread

I ain’t even ask she like my type (she like my type)

Now she on the coley stool blowin’ my mic (ooh)

Four door Caprice, or that Cutlass (or that Cutlass)

You ain’t sell that much quit lyin’ to the public (stop)

Pipes start growlin’ when I gas

Tell that new Ferrari "I’m on that ass" (I’m on that ass)

Know he a soldier, push a hard line

Quarterback this block, I’m pushin’ hard dimes (hard dimes)

Plus these hard rhymes, they’ve been missin’ (they’ve been missin’)

In hard times, we don’t cry we start grittin’ (come on)

Get your own style, stop bitin’

Gotta 40 cal nigga, who fightin’? (blacka, blacka, blacka)

They once had flows but not no mo’ (but not no mo’ )

I copped two P’s, there’s money to blow (there’s mo’)

[Chorus: Locksmith]

I’m real, I’ma Super Star

See me on the block with a group of stars

I feel, I can do it all

Niggas don’t get it that I’m through wit’ y’all

I will, have to make it clear

You don’t understand I’ma make it clear

I feel, I’m so cool and ah

You don’t understand I’ma Super Star

[Verse 2: Turf Talk]

Gotta Benz tilted low, sittin’ on Vogues (sittin’ on Vogues)

Studio gangstas: we don’t like those (we don’t like those)

Alcohol problem, been it since a seed

If I drink one mo’ bottle my bladder gon’ bleed (ugh)

We post-ed, till the police rush us

I’m the poster boy I advertise for hustlin’

Gotta mean left hook but my shoulder went out (shoulder went out)

So now I pop off when they run they mouth (back up)

Now I’m in the limelight ‘cause I rhyme tight

‘Cause I come from pennies to rich overnight

I don't ask for nothin’ I take my pay

Day you diss me homie: the day of your wake

You ain’t run the west homie, Turf is

I ain’t dissin’ Cali but this bay biz

Gotta bigger budget and feel like I cheat

Break down the beat Mr. E-A-Ski

[Chorus: Locksmith]

I’m real, I’ma Super Star

See me on the block with a group of stars

I feel, I can do it all

Niggas don’t get it that I’m through wit’ y’all

I will, have to make it clear

You don’t understand I’ma make it clear

I feel, I’m so cool and ah

You don’t understand I’ma Super Star

[Verse 3: Turf Talk & Locksmith]

The wait is over here comes The Cure (here comes The Cure)

They heard your rap but they want more (but they want more)

I don’t ask “why?”, I just kill shit

Put this on pad and make y’all feel shit (feel it)

Man I’m seasoned, far from BG (far from BG)

It’s gon’ take the whole world to stop me baby

I ain’t never left it ain’t a comeback

For now and forever the future of rap

And that’s real…

I’ma Super Star

She don’t want me she wanna fuck my car (she wanna fuck my car)

Man we go hard, we on Sikk

It’s always criminals behind my tint (look at ‘em)

Man, God I swear, I won’t lie

My white T I only wore one time (quit lyin’)

My pistol’s my best friend we get along real well (we get along real well)

But boy if you make her mad that bitch gon’ cause all hell

[Chorus: Locksmith]

I’m real, I’ma Super Star

See me on the block with a group of stars

I feel, I can do it all

Niggas don’t get it that I’m through wit’ y’all

I will, have to make it clear

You don’t understand I’ma make it clear

I feel, I’m so cool and ah

You don’t understand I’ma Super Star