H.A.W.K. - n***a What lyrics

Published

0 382 0

H.A.W.K. - n***a What lyrics

(*Talking*) Southside, H.A.W.K. Throw them hands up (H.A.W.K.) I'm a H-Town n***a, representing Southside Sitting on chrome, and my body frame wide Wood block guy, sitting on buck eyed See a pair of thick thighs, ask her do you wanna ride Of course she do, so she jumped right in Cause it's her first time, even sitting in a Benz Five hundred series, with the light blue lens And you can hear the wind, whenever the rims spin Sitting in my low, and we watching TV She said ain't you Big H.A.W.K., from the S.U.C. Of course it's me, can't you 20-20 see And plus the vision from my chain, had your vision blurry I could tell by her eye, she was captured by the fame Said she loved it, just spell my name She was on dang-a-lang, cause I could rap and I could sing And I could tell she was lame, to this grown man's game (Hook: H.A.W.K. & (Lil' O) - 2x) Here's a little something for the boppers in the club (yeah) All my real thugs, pulling up on dubs (yeah) Throw your hands up, show a real n***a love (n***a) n***a what (n***a) n***a what (n***a) n***a what (n***a what) (H.A.W.K.) Dead End ringleader, and I'm calling the shots Use to push crack rock, till I hit the jackpot Hidden in a stash spot, got the 4-4 co*ked Me and Jack we a team, like Captain Kirk and Spock I'm a former quarter sacker, ran with car jackers Now a rapper turned actor, but still a pistol packer Don't work for the cracker, unless it's for mills Cause I'm funky than I'm fired, won't pay my bills Showing sk**s make mills, with the lyrics I spill And I'd be in jail, if looks could k** Cause I love to make do', love to spit flows Whether rain sleet or snow, like Black Rob on Whoa Ten G's a show, if you ask for promo What's up Big H.A.W.K., well the answer is no Gotta go gotta go, cause it's crunk in the club Got everybody screaming, n***a what n***a what (Hook - 2x) (H.A.W.K.) Now it's the last verse, so it's a must I wreck For my day one n***az, on them grey ca**ettes Cause I'm far from a rookie, I'm a certified vet And I ain't even broke a sweat, cause I ain't finished yet Even got all the haters, jumping all up on it And everytime you see me, it's a Kodak moment Now sticks and stones, won't break my bones And since Fat Pat gone, I'm gon add to the throne I'm the General in charge, so call me sire And after this plateau, it don't get no higher I spit rapid fire, and I don't misfire A lyrical high wire, hotter than a blow dryer As I start to perspire, from this verbal a**ault My career will catapult, and it ain't my fault I'm too hard to swalla, and too big to over look And the best way to end this, is with the hook (Hook - 2x)

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.