| Now usually I don’t do this, but uh
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| I think we need to go on and break em off
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| With the S.L.A.B. |
| remix
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| Now I’m not trying to be rude
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| You better not touch, the candy blue
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| When the chromed out grill, be coming through
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| With the 84's, rolling on the shoes
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| Looking like a spaceship, with the screens lit
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| Down your block, I’m swanging my bitch
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| Looking at boppers, riding my dick
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| With TJ, throwing up the South Klique
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| Can I get a (Slow, Loud) what about the (Bangin')
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| When I’m crawling on 24's
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| Popped up, with suicide do’s
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| With chrome and glass, and I’m thoed
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| You know we Slow, Loud And Bangin'
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| On every corner, we hanging
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| You see us, rolling big bodies
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| On shiny chrome, and we banging
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| For all my thugs, on the block
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| That know they grinding, nonstop
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| We hold it down, for DJ Screw
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| On everything, that I got
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| Come on, you wanna act like I ain’t a superstar
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| But what about the 22's, I got on my car
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| Or what about the boppers, that be calling my cellular
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| Or what about the H3, Hummer you never saw
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| Leading the line, so everybody’ll follow
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| Sitting real low, playing wreck and fall
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| Screens lit, like show time at the Apollo
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| Go on and get back, cause I got it on lock hoe
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| When I’m playing it, for position
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| In a hard top, slamming the ceiling we missing
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| Blue over gray, in a platinum edition
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| When I show my teeth, my diamonds be glistening
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| Boppers wishing, that they can get with Trae
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| But I glide right by em, like Dr. J
|
| So clean, and did I forget to say
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| I got a Lexus T, that’s so hard
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| It’s Dougie D, and I’m a superstar
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| Huffing puffing blowing weed, sipping on bar
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| Lime bubble gray, cocked up on the beltway
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| Skating on MJ’s, headed down to Few Quay
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| Yeah you motherfuckers feeling my flowing, you like that
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| Nod your head to the front, and then you nod back
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| Slow, Loud And Bangin' daddy we wreck tracks
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| For the Screwzoo, we holding it steady just like that
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| I’m a rhyme ripper, keeping it crunk and I drop bombs
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| Like a pack of bees, fucking with me you will get swarmed
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| When I ride through the streets, I’m tipping the pone chrome
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| Y’all niggas ain’t ready, lil' daddy so hold on
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| Can a nigga get a (*inhaling*), can a nigga get a (*coughing*)
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| Ain’t nothing but, smoke in my lungs
|
| Cause a nigga getting full, and fucked up
|
| Take a look at the way, a nigga be grinding and shining
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| The fifth wheel reclining, I’m steady breaking boys off in the lot
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| When the trunk pop, I’m still gripping a Glock
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| Short stopping these haters, trying to get what I got
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| Cause I’m swanging and banging, my corn hanging I’m slanging
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| Nothing but ki’s, being imported from overseas
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| Like Alicia Keys, my screens falling baby
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| With a Bad Boy, mixed with a little Japanese
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| One time for my thugs on the block, and niggas on lock
|
| Just chase that paper, till you get you a knot
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| Slang rocks it don’t stop, this the life of the hard knocks
|
| Bleed the game, until it turns into blood clots
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| A S.L.A.B. |
| representer to any contender, surrender
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| I’m chopping boys up, like meat straight blenders
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| Like the winter we catching spinners, and beating up fenders
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| You boys game is lame, and y’all still beginners
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| You can catch me at the bar, sipping Coke and Rum
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| I be running through hoes, like Warrick Dunn
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| Late night on the creep, with me and Jay’Ton
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| S.L.A.B., and we number one
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| Lil T who I be, and I’m crawling slow
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| Hoes bopping on the slab, up on my window
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| South Klique be my set, and I’ma let you know
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| And this SB4, and I’m out the do'
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| Where the niggas at, really ready for the S.L.A.B
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| It’s Jay’Ton, tipping up and down the AVE
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| Swanging the block with cops, and I can’t stop dropping the top
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| On a 6−3, can you see me
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| I be that nigga, gripping grain
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| Diamonds all up, in my piece and chain
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| Coming through this bitch, sounding like a train
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| When I bogaurd, in and out the lane
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| It’s T.O., I’m doing my thang
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| Four T.V.'s, gripping on grain
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| Swanging wide, hogging my lane
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| Seeing me and Trae, flying down Main
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| Looking good, and I’m looking throwed
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| Yellow bone star, in Gucci clothes
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| Shining bright, when I’m wrecking flows
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| Turning heads, and I’m out the do' |