Shit's nothing personal at all
Trailors ain't a problem, walk in mine, shit's super tall.
I'm just playin no trailor fuck for me
Live in there and I'll only afford a small tee.
I'm gangsta and chill for sure
So athletic, run a 100m sprint just like a small blur.
Call myself a rapper? Fuck you high?
Get yourself to the hospital, and errthing will be all righ.
But who's this Nitehawk
Nigga's only typin, but ain't got talk
He kept lurkin, I'm just like, what the fawk.
Yes, nigga I'm attractin a crowd
Over 1 Million, if my nigga 2 Pac was here .. He'd sure be proud.
Seein me spittin and screamin, makin them girls scream so loud.
Like a group origie, my speakers be arouse.
More chill then a piece of ice
Smart as hell, my mind thinks, save every damn slice.
Can't be wastin, cus I waste my money doin the tastin.
While them damn cops keep on chasin, cus on the brick wall all you see is my damn paintin.
I could go on all day, talking about your gay ass shit.
But I'll stop, and let your ass sit.