Tulkojums: HAWK. Tas ir par Real.
that ride or die for me [H.A.W.K.:] To the real, who been down since day one The ones that know H.A.W.K., but also know John To my mom's, you mean the
new technique, drunken bamboo Awoo hoo a hoo, I'm taking all crews what Competition, stimulation for the rap man Losers check your tooters While I'm suckin' on your girls h
em They not givin a fuck about who will Nobody tryin to find out who killed these people Fat Pat, Big H.A.W.K., this shit ain't right man Good cop, bad
' corners Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us Staten's where the war is Where the court system's running out of warrants Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus For real
might hit you with a drum You a G somewhere else but at home you's a bitch You can't go back to the hood 'cause they know you a snitch Pussy ass rappers
while you broke niggaz sleep It ain't no telling 'bout this click, 'cause you know we don't play It be forever and a day, with that H A W K It's the
this is my story [Verse 1:] Wellll the A is for Ashley she always ask for me to take it out her pussy put it right in her ass and the B is for
a new artist, he goes by the name of Papoose And for those of y'all that didn't finish school Check this out, it's all good I'ma run y'all through this
your kids Frasier to John homie I got you that's what it is Chorus (Trae over chorus) H-A-W-K Yo this really get hard for me right here homie You
wet back [Chorus] Verse 3 [H.A.W.K.] Back Back playa raise up off me Shit that a stick is hotter than a cup of coffee Your mistakes a cost me when
grace I gratefully got (H) Hope in Him has helped heal this hurtin' heart (I) Idiots institute irrevorant type insolence (J) Joyful jammin' junk jacking up this Jesus journalist (K
k 'em and pa** 'em to the homies (take her) I'm a nasty a** macaroni You flashing fast money You can pa** the Roley F**k a alimony (b***h) If you
's the nigga low-g Puttin' it down for the nina eight We givin' prop, what we did this week So don't trip, if we forgot your click I move a hundred pounds
E W for Y O U Any C R E W paralyzin' vowels A-E-I-O-U nothin', you're frontin' and rappers almost Q U I C K to T A L K Some are real quick to W A L K You can S A Y say what you M A
mom looked at my dad, my dad said, "Son, this has gotta stop" Dad gave me money, he said, "Son, this is for ya" I went to Garden City to go get me a
empty your pockets when the K's out Whatever you holdin is mine, you my PayPal See I don't get how this guy is a threat I make his life inept for a pie
