I Can Make You Dance (Screwed) - H.A.W.K.

Million dollar block

Spot is hot, but we gon mash to the top

These FED’s gon watch

The cash don’t spot, million dollar block

On my block my spot, is hotter than Arizona

Infested with marijuana, hustlers on every corner

I sit in the sauna, like the boat in the beach

Four hundred snails cut cudicals, as I sip pharmicutical

Got me twelve funds, along with stocks and bonds

And for the cash baby, even got a green thumb

Fee-fi-fo-fum, like Jack and the bean stock

I’m passing four raw, with sixty open some vaults

I paid the cost, a certified Mafia boss

And over a quarter a million dollas, is my annual gross

Popping bottles of Andre, Castle and Ligante

On page like picante, feed me on me entree

It’s my way like Usher, got connections in Russia

Try to stop my shine, my troops’ll bum rush ya

F-E-D's on the watch, all eyes on me

Ain’t nothing they can do, but legalize currency

I’m in a drop top Benz, yelling motherfuck friends

Cause now I’m strictly pussy, family and dividends

Finally made it off the block, streets swallowed us G’s

God’s hopped out of me, had to swallow my cheese

But the next day I was grinding, got the balling disease

I had a dream I was a Don, U-Hauling these ki’s

Yelling Southwest, Braeswood

And y’all know, 8900 pay good

I went from a block bleeder, to a Interstate skater

A fifty pack scorer, to a heavy weighter a cookie baker

And nigga, I ain’t ask I took my paper

Cause fool I ain’t a rookie in these streets, I pull capers

Cause now we ball till we fall, drink Cristal

Ghetto superstars, stay knocking off the mall

Hundred thousand dollar cars, on twenty inches

We million dollar boys, man you niggas penny pitchers

(*talking*)

Million dollar block, there’s one in every city

State and ghetto near you, all you have to do

Is take care of your business, you know they watching you

Stay on top of your game, and stay away from these

Hating ass niggas, keep it real and your do will grow, you feel me

Marvin Gators and blocks, eat gators and steaks on papers

As I climb the elevator, housing and the ten acres

Yeah the paper it grew, caused mo' up’s than blue

36 to 52, now I’m Gucci to the shoe

And who new, I prescribe more narcotics than mayors

Wanted dead or alive, got one 4−5 on my head

And these FED’s, got my block hotter than fire

But off the flo', just knocked me a Benz two-tou'

They gon stop and say why, 23 tire fleece

And I don’t lease nothing baby, think half of what you see

Fuck a ki', I’m cutting my time by the pound

Stepping out in Devinci, with my broad in 'Sacci gowns

Watch out now, we sipping champagne in campaigns

Chit-chatting bout new names, and new schemes for cocaine

Mo' pain, I’m staining the scene chasing the green

Through my million dollar block, dreams done turned reality

(*gates closing*)