S.L.A.B. (Slow Loud And Bangin) - Where We Gone Swang lyrics

rate me

[talking:]

What's the deal, this some'ing you know I'm saying

On the laid back note, ain't always gotta be wired up

Sit back parlay and feel it, you know I'm saying

We still putting it in they face, and if you don't know

S.L.A.B., Slow Loud And Bangin

Forever gon show up, but ay I want you to peep this

[Lil' B:]

Me and Trae popped up, hot sunny day we cocked up

Grip the wood screens fall, drop the top sliding on the buck

Fifth relax trunk cracked, mind only on paper stacks

Swang 4's on a candy Lac, chrome for haters who wanna jack

Watch my back in the turning lane, swang and bang with a piece and chain

Diamond cuts princess cut, don't trust a slut seven inch screens rain

Crawl slow trunk glow, me and Trae bout to wreck a show

Can't forgot about Dougie D, Jay'Ton and Lil' T

Lil' B is who I am, sitting sideways don't give a damn

Beans and rice candy yams, you might see me on the front of Slam

Magazine diamonds gleam, 32 inch bezeltyne

Plenty of starch up in my jeans, running through hoes like Natron Means

On the field with the ball, knocking pictures off your wall

Don't need the dope in my drawas, riding legit fuck the laws

Inspection sticker license plates, twenty-two coats candy sprayed

Hit the club valet, playa made with a bald fade

'Sacci shades up on my face, nice crunk thighs with a itty-bitty waist

Sugar brown pop surround, bump and grind when I make my rounds

Press rewind when I'm in the deck, candy coated private jet

Only like my pussy wet, legs up when I'm having sex

[Hook: x2]

Southside, is where we gon swang

Pulling up thoed, when I'm rolling

Crawling up the block, doing my thang

TV screens, steady showing

[Trae:]

I'm lane to lane when I wreck the block, pull out slow so the boppers bop

Got ten thee in the stash spot, finna put mo' shit up in my drop tops

We bubble eyed lighting up the night, with Doug on the fo' mixed up with Sprite

Spitting out flows that's out of sight, with Rock on the track we breaking mics

Better turn your head we living reckless, know y'all know don't fuck with Texas

Why these fake niggaz wanna test us, nigga like me ain't barring plexes

I'm thinking slow but I'm moving fast, no hub caps I'm riding glass

Me and my boo into Hiram-Clarke, with a yellow bitch that got a lot of ass

Pardon me no disrespect, say baby girl wanna hit the X

In a late night on a freaky tip, hop in the car let's go on dip

Moving on in mash mode, all about making my cash flow

Hating on me ain't the thing to do, M double A-B might act a fool

I'm getting down like James Brown, far far back when I'm on recline

In my click I'ma lead the line, so a nigga like me ain't hard to find

With frog eyes on a Cadillac, I know y'all niggaz be feeling that

On the grind for the paper stack, got a red beam for the next to jack

Ain't no knocking we riding clean, got a nigga named Screw nicknamed the King

Without a doubt he made the South, everybody else better close they mouth

I ride for that I love Screw-U, mayn that's a fact

And don't none of y'all ever forget that, talking down might get you slapped nigga

[Hook x4]

Southside, crawling [x2]