(feat. Trae, C-Loc, W.G., Boss Hogg)



[talking]

S.L.A.B., Slow Loud And Bangin' know I'm saying

We been on this fly shit, yeah we keep it gangsta

You know we been dropping tops, pulling out 4's

Spinning on boys, straight out Ike or Jet

Since Pat and Screw was around



[Trae]

What's cracking lately my nigga, must ain't heard of the news

The way I dropped a '60 Cheve, plus he grew in his shoes

I guess I'm fly, cause these boppers steady calling my phone

But I don't really wanna be bothered, when I'm tipping my chrome

And I don't really wanna be bothered, bitch I'm feeling my zone

Slow motion banging my song, four 15's to the dome

Yeah, I think you kinda feel the point that I'm stressing

Like a jacker that's running up, gon feel the black Smith-N-Wesson

Off with top shocks on the drop, these jocks on cock

Clearing out the block, hearts gon stop when I set up the shop

Popping off with them thangs, still the same but changing my lanes

And as soon as my attitude change, I'm change up your frame

The name Trae bitch get it right, 'fore the Maab get to clicking

Like a TV in '86, back when the color was missing

So if you hating fuck you, 'fore a nigga buck you

To tell the truth I give a fuck, bout what you going through



[C-Loc]

Now pure playa when I pass, play the game with precision

So fly when I ride, girl go on take a picture

Got a swag so serious, you'll mistake it for a dance

Got a strap so swoll, knock 'em clean out they pants

These hoes love Loc, they know Loc a real man

Baby mama want me back, but that hoe had a chance

Went from selling blocks of crack, to selling verses for grands

Real recognize real, that's why Trae is my man

Look Big Loc forever fly, till I'm resting in peace

I'm so cold that my blood temp, about zero degrees

I'm so fly like Outkast, so fresh and so clean

Make the game look so easy, but I'm just doing my thing



[W.G.]

I'm so fly, hopping out of my car with the rims spinning

Dubs up, looking like I just won a million

I ain't tripping, it took a little time but me and my team cashing checks

Hopping out of planes, at L.A.X

Houston Tex what I rep, when I hit the West

Got a big ass Dub, hanging off my chest

Seeing niggaz cuffing they chicks, run up bitch

And see how long it take my niggaz, to blitz



[Boss]

I'm fly, but niggaz still will get beat up

Every 24/7, got my motherfucking heater

Never leaving the house, without my pistol grip what I'm fin's to grip

They tell me to calm down, but Lil' Boss Hogg is fin's to trip

I advise you niggaz, to catch hold of your brain

Cause 17 hollow points, might shower down like rain

Off the chain, fresh off the dock tipping a yacht

I bang like 5 Deuce Scott, tipping a drop

Bucking at cops I'm over the law, I'm over your jaw

Couped up in the kitchen, and I'm working with raw

Ain't too many niggaz, that can G like me

I keep about 16, B.G.'s with heat