(feat. Mr. 3-2, Pimp Skinny, Lil Head, Warren G, Thib,...) 



[talking:] 

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

This E-Money, coming at you live and direct 

Finna take you on a trip through the Southside 



[Hook x2] 

When we pull out 

You know we looking thoed, still Slow Loud 

And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside 

You know we gotta hold swang left right, left right 



[Dougie D:] 

Yes it's I, the D-O-U-G-I-E 

From the South-a-side 

I'm representing it real, till the day I die 

Forever constantly, Dougie be getting high to ease my mind 

As I crawl down, still knocking and beating blocks 

Well I suppose, I should prolly keep glocks cocked 

Cause these boys hating, nevertheless I'm still skating 

Looking good when I do, cause I ain't got time for the faking 

Ain't no crawling copies, never gon be another like me 

One in original, hundred percent Dougie for life 

And cause we Slow Loud, And Bangin' 

Bitch that mean that we gon hold it down, up on our grind 



[Trae:] 

Still Slow Loud, and representing my click 

With a gun shot, for niggaz riding my dick 

If I step out, my dropper you better skate 

'Fore I pull out, my heat and I start to spray 

I'm a natural type of playa, on gators and bending corners 

Like niggaz in California, my top'll be dropping on ya 

My paint wetter than whether, that's rainy leaving a storm 

My trunk causing a catastrophe, like Vietnam 

We slap shots, dumping a stash spot on switches 

Like hop scotch, with niggaz that pop lock 

In a blue or the red drop, with a iced out mouth piece 

A gangsta high baller, for the 21st Century 

With genocide nola, fifty thousand we over 

From whipping our baking soda, from Texas to Pensacola 

Roll a 4 and I'ma stop it and drop it, body rock it and cock it 

Red dot it and lock it, hit the stage and I rock it 



[Hook x2] 



[Jay'Ton:] 

It's Jay'Ton, steady flipping 

And flossing, with the Mo City Don 

Steady pimping these bitches, like I'm Don Juan 

When I be stepping out I'm rocking Sean John, Sean John 

Cause I'm playa baby, 16 flipping Mercedes 

With a yellow lady, when I'm tipping it through the Cady 

Bubble eyes on, when I'm living it in my zone 

22's surrounded by chrome, in front of my home 

4 do' garage, I gotta set the twins is ready for the menage 

But if you ask me they look like Mary J. Blige 

If I ruled the world I'm feeling like I was Nas, feeling like I was Nas 



[Big Bee:] 

Swang hard, on the 'Vard dog 

It's Big B double E, I was born hog 

I cause traffic, when I ride in my orange car 

I'm looking for some attention, I'm a superstar 

Straight out of Hiram-Clarke, on the Southside 

We roll on 84's, and we swang wide 

Blowing on hydro, with the paint po'd 

I'm sitting on buck skin, in my playa mode 



[Mr. 3-2:] 

Slow Loud Bangin', in the deck 

Everybody think I'm tripping, and I'm gone off that wet 

But I check ya ass, like my brand new sneaks 

And put a dot on your eye, if your mouth ever leak 

Now take a peak, at the big Boss 3-2 

Everytime you see me, I'm sporting something brand new 

What it do what it done, bitch you know where I'm from 

I keep a big old pistol, for them niggaz talking dumb 



[Warren G:] 

Candy red we flossing, we po'd up 

Southside how you feel, we ain't riding on horses down here 

Nothing but Lac's and trucks, and purple stuff on buck 

Swanging left-right, slow up your block 

On chops won't stop, won't quit 

South Klique on bumper kits, with screens on lit 

With the boppers and shoppers, that be bopping a nigga drop 

On glass choppers be chopping, while they looking like helicopters 



[E:] 

Won't stop, rolling on chops 

It's K all day nigga, the cream of the crop 

It never end, a youngen with a smile on his ends 

And dividend, Sprewells keep spin in the wind 

Now here I go, I crawl down low on 84's 

Draped down in Gucci clothes, and macking to all these hoes 

With the killer piece and chain, banging Slow Loud And Bang 

As I grip up on the grain, headed to South mayn 



[Hook x2] 



[Lil B:] 

Pulling out, nigga you know we thoed 

In a heavy wide frame, with J-Dog and the Ro 

On the Southside, you know we gotta hold 

Piece and chain gon swang, with a mouth full of gold 

We swang left-right, knowing I don't play 

If the jackers try to come, AK gon spray 

Fewquay is where I swang, the lane and swang 4's 

Niggaz be tripping I'm sipping, and hitting fly hoes 

Chickens in kitchens we mixing, and flipping my do' 

Expedition and wishing for competition, on my flow 

Who the nigga that be By-Bo, Lil B gotta crawl down 

See breaking mics when I'm on the sight for, S-L-A-B 



[Pimp Skinny:] 

Wrecking the block with the trunk open, the bumper cocked 

Let my shit knock, I got my hand on my glock 

While the haters watch, I see these bitches on my jock 

I got my mug on mean, as I pass I can't stop 

Steady beating blocks, I gotta let the top drop 

It's just that nigga Pimp Skinny, representing and never stop 

I leave these haters knocked, but them 4's can't stop nothing 

But believe I'm gangsta strutting, and ain't gotta touch nothing 

Just pushing buttons, on the face of my remote 

As I ride cough and choke, cause I'm gone off that killa smoke 

But on my note, so you haters watch your back 

Best believe I got that gat, and I'll rat-ta-tat-tat 



[Thib:] 

When I pull out, corner bend a trendsetter 

With my top down, baby Benz Gucci leather 

On chrome feet, and I'm ready for whatever 

With the chrome heat, you gotta have your shit together 

Just to compete, cutting concrete spinning 

While the trunk beat, everywhere I go hoes grinning 

Like they want me, now I'm independent if they hear me 

Then I won't be, collab with the S.L.A.B. hit the lab get funky 

We strapped with weapons and guns, ready to stun 

Pack a competitive tongue, second to none 

Educated etiquette Don, is ready for fun 

Regulating everyone, get ready to run 

Dedication whether the storm, now we perform 

Exclamation no time form, pay me or mourn 

Swang foreign changing the lane, feeling the breeze 

Popped up loving the game, blowing my trees 



[Lil Head:] 

I let the top down on 20 inches, AMG's 

With yella's mixed with Japanese, they hair blow in the breeze 

Bitch please, you mean to tell me you ain't impressed 

Candy orange STS, T.V.'s in the head rest 

Go on confess, you love the way I'm customized 

Paint so wet when you look, you have to squint your eyes 

You look surprised, how I swing and barely missed him 

83's recline bumper, with the Northstar system 

Hard top out the shop, time to break off a fake 

Four 12 J-L, trying to make the trunk shake 

It's no mistake it's Lil Head, and you already know 

Surround from Mobile 1, I raise my trunk up and show it 



[Hook x2]