H.A.W.K. - What You Boys Know Lyrics
[H.A.W.K.]Dirty Southside, got your mouth wide openCross eyed all tongue tied, like you on formaldehydeIf you not qualified, I'll hit from the blind sideLives getting crucified, we cried when Aaliyah diedIt's just Southern pride, inside and outsideNever ever satisfied, until we heard worldwideSome people done lied, told you that we countrifiedGot you all buck eyed, and looking at our clean rideIf you not preoccupied, grab a seat court sideWatch the show all high, we got chicken Southern friedLet me be your tour guide, up the South and NorthsideAnd put the plex aside, we got the game hogg tiedHard-core and bonefied, our ice and piece driedRoaches get pesticide, we won't be deniedPlaya I reside, on the SouthsideIs where you see the drop top Bentley outside[Hook]What you boys know, about the Dirty SouthWhere we stay iced up, and pull Bentleys outWhat you boys know about that Lone Star stateWhere the homies slowing it, ?and the rest concade?What you boys know, about them Texas boysWe the ones Down South, making all the noiseWhat you boys know, about that S.U.C.This for Screw and Mafio, and P-A-T[H.A.W.K.]On tracks and eight dats, I break backs and spit factsSquash all chit-chat, and bullshit I ain't with thatI keep thangs intact, cause my goal is thatThe studio's my habitat, your flow is whack can't get in thatI two-way my contact, tall stacks with Cold JackLike you cats can't get it back, and my ? so you rugratsI'm doing this for Fat Pat, and for him I bring thatAt first I use to slang crack, now it's two ties and slacksAll dogs and stray cats, pimps, playas and macksNiggas down like fo' flats, with bald fades and flatsWe want it all like ball brass, down here we tote gatsOur body's covered with tats, we only smoke ball batsThat's how we do it, get the stash we screw itWe arch you to it, like Nike just do itYou had a chance you blew it, so now it's my turnIf you not from round here, you boys will learn that[Hook][H.A.W.K.]Southern hard hitter go-getter, never been a quitterHardest pit in the litter, got these haters bitterSee the way my chain glitter, this is for my real niggasWho stack the figgas, and will pull the triggasI'm buttoned up like silver, my name is getting biggerI'm not your average nigga, and I'm raw like DiggaSouthern flow spitter, don't mess with quittersOr no wig splitter, and I'm giving cats the chillsWhat boys know, bout eggs and gritsSmashing hits, and girls I hit it with big titsWhat you boys know, bout starchy jeansAnd serving fiends, and moving bricks for nineteenWhat you boys know, bout brand new whipsUnloading the clips, and country boys bout they chipsWhat you boys know, bout moving snowI'm not just glow, in the Dirty South cats get thoed[Hook]
