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lil hawk - lil' hawk - damu ridaz lyrics
[verse 1: lil’ hawk]
the westside hoo-riders back in the motherf-cking do’
y.g. lil’ hawk on a solo bolo t-i-p
tryna clock my motherf-cking grip
red riding through your hood with 2 straps on my hip
i’m a b-d-o-g, i don’t give a f-ck
bailing up the block in my fresh cherry chucks
og inglewood you n-gga’s now where it’s at
and big hawk fresh outlaw
ready out to scr-p
big ken, that’s my n-gga straight o f-ckin’ g
and every n-gga that i know represents the b (whoop whoop) whoop, whoop somebody blaze the chronic
n-ggas on the westside call that sh-t bionic
now i’m off to the sto’ so i can pay a fifth of thunderbird with the cherry kool-aid and pack of big red then i’m goods to go
cause i never know when i might run in to a ho
and now when back on the block and what did i spot?
a big booty b-tch and bunny hop but look he?????
[verse 2: lil’ hawk]
now, come take a ride on the other side of town
where the motherf-cking homies put it down
my n-gga s.p., my homie lil’ nut, my n-gga 104 laid back is the cut
lil’ d.o.g, big go and lil’ o’, smiley, kb we all forms the ‘4
big china dog, 7-11 on the fame, my n-gga t-whirl with the motherf-cking gauge
yg’s goin’ out putin’ in the most work, you goin’ out witta bang when i let my gat lurk and then jerk
leavin’ shirts red and messy
yeah motherf-cker don’t sweat me
and what the f-ck made you even brings the noise
when you know you couldn’t f-ck with this bloodcloth boy
oh, b-tch -ss n-gga, just slow your roll
cuz you motherf-ckers really don’t know
that this little n-gga, he stays strapped
he plays the n-gga peelin’ mothaf-ckin’ caps
[verse 3: lil’ hawk]
see i’m the dopest, so focus, your eyes on me
i just shake, break, make, take all these fake–ss mc’s
6 on a tv, 7-11 when i roll
and a limp in my walk every time i take stroll
b-braze and yay rolled up in ‘lac
bump m’ &the l, rolling up a dubsack
you know a n-gga like me
i just jumped in the coupe and with one hit of that sh-t
i just holla “whoop whoop”
feelin’ good to know braze’s on clad 4
and it ain’t no compet-tion when it comes to just flow
i just stick styles up on you like a d-ck and all weak -ss n-gga’s i just making ‘m my b-tch
(sp: ooh-whee who can it be?)
it’s that n-gga lil hawk y-mothaf-ckin’-g
i’m steadily takin’of breakin of all these m-u double t’s
tail up in they’-ss body all full of fleas
you can’t f-ck with this, so don’t even trip
cause everything a n-gga make gon’ be the sh-t!
b-i-tch!
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