H.A.W.K. - Hot Shit lyrics
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Artist: H.A.W.K. lyrics Album: Hawk Year: 2002 Title: Hot Shit |
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Lyrics to Hot Shit :
Southside, H-A-W-K
What, what, what...
[Hook]
I drop that hot shit that hot shit, you know it's going down
The type of shit, that make your girl knees touch the ground
You got plex let me know, you got beef let me know
If you looking for me nigga, here I go here I go
[H.A.W.K.]
I spit that hot shit that rock shit, that make you drop your top shit
That got the game on lock shit, that make you body rock shit
That make you shoot your glock quick, make you say Big H.A.W.K.'s sick
Make you ride my diznick, cause I'm colder than an ice pick
I write this for rightness, or even try to recite this
If you do not like this, I'll hit you with my right fist
Man you got a tight bitch, that keeps on peeping me
I'm a sergeant to M-A-C-K-I-N-G
Then she'll belong to me, pass her to my homie
That South boy of Middle G, in this G-A-M-E
R-E-S-P-E-C-T, to the day I D-I-E
Or unless you're a wanna be, then you're not my cup of tea
Don't make me act a damn fool, treat you like you in pre-school
Cause you broke the golden rule, and made me lose my cool
Now this is H.A.W.K. and I'll let you know, on this track by Shadow
All go fuck blow, and kick in the fucking do'
[Hook x2]
[H.A.W.K.]
The Southside got your mouth wide, eyes looking all cross eyed
Sitting low on buck hide, steering wheel on the right side
Don't high side when I pass by, toots my horn and say hi
Hood rats they act fly, classy hoes that act shy
I wonder why it's like that, they peeping me like Fat Pat
But I just hit the kitty cat, and tell them hoes to back back
Ask Fat Rat it's pure facts, we tossing hoes like flap jacks
Like serving fiends that white crack, they guaranteed to come back
Sell em that like a shot of yack, them hoes be down like fo' flats
Dance around in tight slacks, for all the pimps, playas and macks
Conversation on who's that, pimping ain't dead I told you that
Chicks chewing on my nut sack, and hang around like a clothes rack
That chit-chat that's on the street, boys out here in love with freaks
Making love between the sheets, but can't make your ends meet
Disrespecting the game is deep, letting these hoes play you for weeks
And you wonder why you ain't on feet, cause actions speak and talk is cheap
[Hook x2]
[H.A.W.K.]
Are y'all ready to rumble, the Tarzan of this jungle
Weak niggaz crumble, hold the ball don't fumble
I'm cold but I'm humble, so talk up don't mumble
Smart like Bryant Gumble, cowards tend to tumble
I rope the game like a lasso, Southside down at Grasgo
A little bit of hot tobasco, about to cause a fiasco
Just pass go collect your do', spit fire in the studio
Turn it out at a state show, and pull you a bad hoe
Get you some loving, that's hotter than an oven
Kissing and hugging, and ready to get dug in
I break bones and snap necks, tear flesh with techs
If you got plex, I'll put you on a bed rest
I suggest you move around, unless you screaming H-Town
Yellow bone or sugar brown, they love the way I put it down
Give me the crown for the best flow, shake your ass and throw them bows
And if you look at me, here I go here I go
[Hook x2]
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