Nigga What lyrics

f/ Lil` O



(*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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