(feat. Billy Cook)



[Trae]

Back at it again, and I feel like I'm in my prime

Fuck rhymes, I'ma wreck this motherfucker for Dinkie doing time

Slow Loud And Bangin' for life, niggaz know it's understood

How the fuck niggaz think they down, and they ain't even from the hood

Too many niggaz in my section, so I had to make a change

Plus niggaz be disrespecting, so I had to take my aim

It ain't no friends inside this game, niggaz switching like the drop of a dolla

So catch the fuck you out my window, as I flip my Impala

Dogging the road, plus even on mo' got niggaz in shame

And they can't touch me in the '84 Range, I'm raw and untamed

See Trae is self explanatory, and my attitude show it

On the way to fuck up they career, nine times out of ten niggaz know it

So gon get ready for the crown, to be announced to my team

If you don't think we hard, then watch this Nina Ross with this beam

We back at it, automatic static for you niggaz who hating

Who say they really wanna do me, bring it on cause I'm waiting



[Hook: Billy Cook]

They telling me, that we ain't gon make it this time

They telling me, that S.L.A.B. don't hustle and grind

We back again, to prove you niggaz wrong this time

Mistakes have been made, niggaz know that you crossed that line



[Jay'Ton]

Before you hate up on the S.L.A.B., get your weight up bitch

So move around bitch nigga, 'fore I empty my slip

I'm a young guerilla in these streets, trying to make me a profit

Six figgas ain't enough, cause I done had that shit in my pocket

A nigga G'd up, Boss chunking them C's up

Jay'Ton up in this bitch, with the T-O-P up

Swanging down the block with my heat cocked, for them cops when I set up shop

Ain't no way in hell, that I'ma stop

When it was sad cause I'm ahead of my time, plus I'm head of the line

See the heated 3-80, pointed dead at your spine

30 karats round my neck, cause I'm head of my shine

Now the click come again, to put it dead on your mind



[Hook]



[Boss]

Back at it again, Boss done grabbed his pad and his pen

Cutting corners cocking the Coupe, with automatic again

Lacing my stars in the morning, creasing my rag in the den

Khakis sagging under my ass, I'm fin to drag em again

Niggaz ain't never seen the corrupted rebel, riding in progress

Set me up a corner, full of hustlers and watch it process

I'm fifty two hundred deep, when I'm dipping on the solo

Swooping up in the low-low, 17 slugs for the po-po

It's Slow Loud And Bangin', tearing the top off your microphone

Blacks gloves and black ski masks, when I'm in my sniper zone

I did this for my niggaz, doing time in a cell

Putting they foot in niggaz asses, dropping dimes in the jail

This for my C'd and my B'd niggaz, over to my B-D niggaz

Fo' Tre's and ITC's, my TTP niggaz

Boss gon floss for the house, with a Nina Ross

Keep my pockets full of green, and my hand full of green mounts



[Hook]