S.L.A.B. (Slow Loud And Bangin)

S.L.A.B. (Slow Loud And Bangin) - When We Pull It Out songtekst

Je score:

(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]
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Taal: Engels

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