S.L.A.B. (Slow Loud And Bangin) - More Or Less lyrics

rate me

(feat. Z-Ro, Archie Lee, Trae, Boss Hogg, Lil' B, Jay-Te)

[Hook]

A lot of niggaz, wanna see me in my grave (more or less)

I be ready for the drama, anyday (more or less)

Go to war, in the midst of gun play (more or less)

On your street, with the sweet (it ain't no need to have a vest)

A lot of niggaz, wanna see me in my grave (more or less

I be ready for the drama, anyday (more or less)

Go to war, in the midst of gun play (more or less)

Only taking head shots, (it ain't no need to have a vest)

[Z-Ro]

When I roll I roll solo, with my 4-4 on the side of me for company

Wishing a nigga and his click, would think about jumping me

Six enexchangable clips, seventeen bullets in each

That's a hundred and twelve reasons, a whole street could be deceased

Right when I was trying to change, fellas start playing games

Brought me back to reality, my sanity's now insane

I be busting for nothing homie, I'm addicted to shots

Blame my hood, cause that's just the way it is on my block

I got a bad attitude, cause I'm use to beefing

They'll never take me alive, the reason for no sleeping

So when a nigga come after me, I'ma hit him where it hurt

I'll let him make it, but his mama and daddy gon see a hearse

Fuck a driveby, I want him to look me in my eyes

Let him call Junior on his mobile, just to say goodbye

So call my name out, and watch how everybody run for cover

Cause they know I'm a heartless motherfucker, until I die

[Hook]

[Archie Lee]

This be the realest shit I ever wrote, and you can quote me cuz

I'm from the block where we hopeless thugs, but we suppose to thug

A lot of niggaz hate, a few show love

But that only keep me focused cuz, I got my heater with me

So when them niggaz, try to get me on the creep no

They getting merked, in they fresh white T oooh

H-Wood, be the set I claim

Southside we connected mayn, world respected mayn

Hitman, be the number one honcho

Get that white from Poppy, and that green from Poncho

Slab riding, got me loaded and cocked

Much love to my nigga Trae, good looking out

[Trae]

I heard they coming to get me, but it ain't gon be no easy task

See me with the Mac-11, sending fifty through your glass

Am I losing my mind, I don't know and I don't really give a damn

But these motherfuckers, gon know who I am

Plus Dinkie shot a kite, and told me watch out for you hating ass niggaz

Run up on me, I'll be putting you in a grave ass niggaz

Now I'm riding, with my super entourage of hot shells

And if they catch up wit ya, garunteed they bringing hell

Let me take you to, another level of mind

To get a closer look at death, before I flatten your line

You done it this time, and ain't no way you getting away

I put this on me and my son, it won't be safe where you stay

[Hook]

[Boss]

That nigga don't wanna see me, with my black mask

But that's alright, cause I got a scheme for his black ass

See I believe, in creeping with reacons

I know where your girlfriend stay bitch, you be there every weekend

Riding up in a Regal, D-Eagle under the seat

I'm about to put six of them thangs, up under your meat

You got a hole in your neck, you need IV's to eat

I gotta show you the real way, of greeting niggaz with heat

I pull a black Mac up out the pack, walking from that Cadillac

Sipping on a low O-E, fired up like a battlecat

Niggaz don't wanna take it there, with Lil' Boss

I be fucking with B.D.'s, bitch I can get ya lost

[Lil' B]

I'm sick and tired of you niggaz underestimating, and thinking I'm fake

You'll be the first example, of catching a slug to the chest plate

Break niggaz for fun, when they try to use guns

I can throw hands, but you niggaz so quick to try to run

To the trunk and wanna dump, old chump ass nigga

You'll get found, floating off in a swamp ass nigga

My click killas, and I'm the young guerilla of the pack

The true definition, of making niggaz back-back

Fuck a size, I'll demolish 'em all small or tall

It don't matter, bet your bitch ass fall

More or less so go on plex, if you think you're ready

Buck shots'll stretch your flesh, like spaghetti

[Jay'Ton]

I guess you thought that it was over, when you pulled the 12 gauge

And I won't get no rest, until I see you in your grave

Last time to start checking when I hit the block, looking for cats

And since we playing dirty, you just might catch four in your back

Nonstop, I bet you niggaz finna know about me

I'm only 18, but still I'm classified as a G

I run with the best, them niggaz that'll leave you wrapped up

In a black truck, you don't want the heat clapped up

Better back up, nigga I'm a asshole

Everything in this camp, surrounded by the cash flow

Plus I live on the block, I know I'm being watched by the FED's

But I'ma still put a hot slug, dead in your braids

[Hook]