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Artist: E.S.G., Sean Pymp, Chikkenhawk
Album:  The Dirty 3rd Soundtrack
Song:   Boss Hawg
Typed by: Lil Hustle

Mic check mic check, my mic on
Yo, I wanna make sure this motherfucker on
So I can tell all these bitch ass niggaz
It's a new world order, Wreckshop nigga
Wreckshop nigga

Man we put it down, man we put it down
Known to bust a nigga head, if he wanna clown
Man we put it down, man we put it down
So motherfuck the FED's and them hoes, this our town
Nigga we the Boss Hoggs, the top dogs
Back against the wall, we gon still stand tall
Nigga we the Boss Hoggs, the top dogs
Back against the wall, we gon still stand tall, fuck y'all

You motherfuckers pack a pistol, we launch nuclear missiles
Incinerate all adversaries, till we accomplish our mission
All you playa haters talking, you dead men walking
Call us Wreckshop executioners, like assassins we stalking
And I'm the nigga that's Chikkenhawk'n, hunt you down and cloudy skies
With a machete under my wing, chopping you niggaz down to size
Looking for screens and rise, putting the fear in your eyes
And your heart I know you scared, bitch you better run and hide
Write your last will and testament, kiss your family goodbye
Make your peace motherfucker, cause of your hating you die
You tried to steal our game, but these years you can't fade
It's Wreckshop and Southside, from the cradle to the grave
Chikkenhawk and Sean Pymp, E.S.G. is the captain
Go hard to calculate, and make big money with the rapping
And I'll never take a loss, that I can't take right back
I'm boss hogging and regulating, busting heads with the strap


[Sean Pymp]
Nigga I'm down like a dump truck, on fo' flats
Got you living paranoid, like your brain's on crack
Keep on gunning bustas running, like a hundred yard dash
Cause I rat-tat-tat-tat, on that funky bitch ass
Unleashing terror to the game, from the pressures on brain
Bitches eating off my name, trying to feed off my fame
But fuck you bitches, cause y'all ain't shit
Bouncing on my dick, like a pogo stick
Or Mr. 16-Shotti, pull up Killuminati
Keep bouncing part the body, fed up like teriyaki
Sauce when I floss, I ain't taking no loss
You paid the cost to be the boss, but I'ma break yo ass off
I'm taking all that there, and all this here
Cleaning household motherfuckers, like I'm Mr. Belvedere
Or Major Benson, cause nigga Sean Pymp'n
You run your damn mouth, there's gonna be a damn lynching


You gon feel me now when I come through the do'
See me strapped, with a big 4-4
That Everyday Street Gangsta, ain't taking that bullshit no mo'
But fuck you po-po's, you homos don't think it's hard to get ya
This rap game ain't the only way, to go to war wit ya
Sixteen bars don't split you, what about sixteen slugs
Multiply that by two, I'm coming with 32 thugs
Chop your ass to the nub, ain't no Crip or no Blood
But I can tackle a nigga, right in front of the club
And if I drop my glock, I'm acting like I'm in a cell block
Leave a pussy in your head, from a lock in the sock
Now I'm a go-getter nigga, like that's the man he on rocks
Local rappers get paranoid, they can't stand when I drop
I leave they brain sets God, I'm so god damn hard
They looking a god damn shotgun house, in 3rd Ward
They broke down your crew, I hate to tell you
But Cynthia Cooper, is more motherfucking man than you


So now and forever, nigga from the cradle to the grave
Is the only way you gon feel me, said you wanna kill me
Motherfucker, and that's real