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H.A.W.K. f Lil` O - Nigga What

на свой мобильный!
Отправь SMS с текстом 55788-107-3003 на номер 5537.

Предложение действительно для Российских операторов.

(*Talking*)
Southside, H.A.W.K.
Throw them hands up

[H.A.W.K.]
I`m a H-Town nigga, 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 nigga love
(nigga) nigga what (nigga) nigga what (nigga) nigga what (nigga 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 cocked
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 skills make mills, with the lyrics I spill
And I`d be in jail, if looks could kill
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, nigga what nigga what

[Hook - 2x]

[H.A.W.K.]
Now it`s the last verse, so it`s a must I wreck
For my day one niggaz, on them grey cassettes
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 assault
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]

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