(feat. Lil' O)

[Talking]

Southside, H.A.W.K.
Throw them hands up


[H.A.W.K.]
I'm a H-Town ^!$$%, 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 x2: H.A.W.K. & (Lil' O)]
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 ^!$$% love
(^!$$%) ^!$$% what (^!$$%) ^!$$% what (^!$$%) ^!$$% what (^!$$% 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 @@#!ed
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, ^!$$% what ^!$$% what


[Hook x2]

[H.A.W.K.]

Now it's the last verse, so it's a must I wreck
For my day one ^!$$%z, 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 $$#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 x2]