(feat. T.C., Trae, Lil B, Kendro, Jay'Ton)



[talking]

Ah-ha, we Slow Loud And Bangin' you heard me

You could believe that, y'all ain't ball what we bringing this year

We busting heads ducking FEDs, you heard me

You better watch your broad, cause she will get tossed

Believe that, Clue holla at your boys man

We down here doing it just like y'all

We bringing it man, we coming for it



[T.C.]

I'm dope, like a pound or ki

Shut the fuck up, and listen to me

Your boy bout Mack-matics, hustle game drastic

The way I make them birds flip, like gymnastics

Pull the duct tape and rope out, on a dope route

23 inch rims, the boy gotta poke out

Duck a FED, lil' one bust a head

Get the bread all day, that's how I play it

Ain't got time for that dumb shit, cousin catch a cut

When I drop my nuts, whodi heads bust

Spend a lot of big faces dog, in God we trust

And if you flexing up, whacking you is a must



[Trae]

Let me introduce you, to the young gunners

In a six, top down living stunners

I'm a pimp, game I gotta run em

My money, bitch you ain't getting none of that

With a brick and tank I'm hauling that, on the way to Louisiana

I got stangs off in Savannah, with my nigga Shot in Atlanta

S.L.A.B. Slow Loud And Bangin', it's plain to see we ain't changing

The block get bled wherever I'm hanging, everyday all day I'm stanging

D-Bo and Rick in a Expedition, T.V.'s in a 2K3 edition

Black on black tint, so niggaz missing

With a throw away glock, that a nigga ditching

I ain't the nigga, that you wanna play with

I might click, then I might start to spray shit

Everytime I come out they cop this, cause they know they cannot stop this

M double A-B, anytime I swang you know I'm a G

S.U.C S-L-A-B, for life till I D-I-E



[Lil B]

Lil B, popped up in a six

On a constant grind, steady hitting licks

Riding hell-a-chrome, getting hell-a-dome

From a thoed, Louisiana yellow bone

With my nigga T.C., you boys really don't want it with me

Moving bricks, from N.O. to A.C

Still repping S-L-A-B, S-L-A-B

I be the one that'll leave you numb, with my lil' kin folk Jay'Ton

Dropping bombs, gripping guns

Slow, Loud And Bangin' is number one

But this ain't Nelly, shots letting off through your pelly-pelly

If you try to shortstop my feddy

Like Archie Eversole nigga we ready we ready

Told you boys, we was ready for war

Like the Mafia, we above the law

Breaking jaws doing raw, sending bullet holes through your foreign car

Only for the pay day, running through hoes like a Texas Relay

On the block, with Shae and the BJ

I'm still pushing, these rhymes like weight



[Kendro]

Don't get the underground twisted fool, a nigga played it

Now they hating and hack and deleting, faggots out my bracket

Cooly D's on swoll, but it really feel like it inhaled some potent chronic

Dro flows loc blows, still tracks like hop scotch

Back off in the mix I'm in it, still I be diminishing contenders

And I him they ass up, like suspenders

With seven to your back, like Mario Elly

Pop a pill-y of the X, and run it all through em really



[Jay'Ton]

I be that nigga sitting thoed, through the lot

A nigga like me, gotta bleed the block

Your little boy Jay'Ton, gotta drop the top

With brights and tearing, the G-Spot

I might take a hoe to Mo, knock her down

You know how we do it, up in the H-Town

That's the Down South, golds in my mouth

I be that pimp, with hoes on a route

Gotta get my cash, pick it up and then I hit my gas

Burning off, like a shotgun blast

Ready to put my foot, in your ass

Then again, I'm in another mode

When I'm throwing bows, on 84's

With a yellow hoe, and a calico

Slow Loud And Bangin' till the day I go



[talking]

Ha, sit back and feel this one

S.L.A.B., Volume motherfucking 4



Trae in here hollin' at you, you know how it go

S.U. motherfucking C. baby

S-L-A-B, Guerilla Maab, South Klique

H-Town's finest, you feel me

Oh yeah 3-Deuce you on lock boy

But you know I'ma hold it down for you

S.L.A.B. forever, know I'm saying

R.I.P. Screw-U, Mike D I see you just touched down

Put it in they face, my nigga

Gotta keep it gangsta, what up Carlos

At that Top Dollar, appreciate you

For the motherfucking instrumental

Now they can't stop us from making hits, ha-ha