S.L.A.B. (Slow Loud And Bangin) - It's That S.L.A.B. lyrics
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Lyrics to It's That S.L.A.B. : (feat. Lil' Head, A3, DeLo, 2) [talking:] What's happening, Yung Redd-H.S.E. I'm in here with that S.L.A.B., Slow Loud And Bangin My nigga Trae, we's not playing know I'm saying [Hook:] Ay, it's that S-L-A-B Beating down your block, in the Hu-Humvee Nigga please, we riding on 33's With a yellow bopper, that's watching my TV's Ay, it's that S-L-A-B Beating down your block, in the Hu-Humvee Nigga please, you don't wanna see me Spitting at your bitch, as a P-I-M-P [Trae:] Body rock in a houpe, swanging droppers no time for boppers I'm rolling on in a Escalade, on a escapade Slip and sliding on cascade, button blades When I get crunk I'ma do the wave, with S-L-A-B for my team Duck your head I'm finna drop my screens, nigga we out of sight Showing my teeth and I'll light the night, and he get locked I'd fly the kite Pull me a bitch when I'm on a bike, not a motorbike but a beach cruiser Pay attention 'fore a nigga lose ya, verbally abuse ya give me a mic and I'ma do ya Touch my drop and I'ma shoot ya, from the Southside of Texas On down to Austin Texas, swanging swanging I'm reckless Ain't no time for the plexers, me D.B. and the Jay'Ton With T.O. and the Shaedron, DeLo, E when B wrecking I be down with the Jamaicans, we be flipping a Yukon Pushing bricks that weigh a ton, bumper clot nigga you'll be gone Didn't know I could wreck like this, thoed off when the mouth spit On the block with a thoed bitch, too legit for me to quit bitch [Hook] [Lil' Head:] Look, Lil' Head I'm on fire like that Weezy-Wee I got hoes in every city, that stay pleasing me Everytime I hit the block, it's a sight to see 20 inches Sprewells, with that DVD I got bitches on my pickle, this shit is kinda simple Candy orange, the color of my luxury vehicle I'm hungry like a hippo, eating shrimps and stuff With a bad yellow bitch, with wide hips and butt See I'm a pimp by blood, it's all in my nature Fuck a hoe leave a hoe, sorry can't save ya See I'm quick to tell a bitch, don't you touch my car See that styrofoam cup, don't you touch my bar I'm a Houston hot boy, flipping a hot toy No fiends that spend cream, so I pistol rock boy From Hiram-Clarke to the Brae', it's a must I say That we all about our chips, like that Frito-Lay get at me [DeLo:] Slow Loud And Bangin, in a drop with screens PS2 with a DVD, let Ro K free when I'm at PB Ain't no tint so you hoes see me, showing up gripping wood Po'ing up looking good, Hiram-Clarke is still my hood Run up if you think you should, got AK's that'll rip your flesh With hollow tips that'll rip your vest, automatic finder won't cease to rest That's Superman you better cease the plex, got head busting when you least expect Got head suckers from East to West, S-L-A-B we be's the best Swang on a vine and I beat my chest, me Tarzan you be my Jane Don't want sex just give me brain, bone Clark Kent Ms. Louis Lane I'm a 007 by the name of James, on a mission to stack the change South Clique's my claim to fame all the rest respect the name, leaving niggaz feeling ashamed [Lil' B:] Game spitter wig splitter, yellow bopper go getter P-I-M-P, trying to stack mob figgas Gorilla killer better feel a nigga, I'm thoed in the brain Push a button let me screens rain, I'm L-I-L-B you feel me mayn Laid back and I'm on the road, Benjamin Franklins I'm gon fold Spinners off the wood grain mo-mo, pop the trunk and then let it glow Southside fa sho yeah we gon swang, Hiram-Clarke is where I leave my stain Till I swang and swang then set up shop, dare a nigga to try to touch my block Cause the glock is cocked, ready to release I'm young and raw with a mouthpiece that's thoed so cold, you don't wanna see a nigga explode Cause I'm heavy crawled out in a Cheve, these niggaz better let me be me That's all I can be, for S-L-A-B [Hook] [2:] You got the hand I got the dro, you got the money I got the hoe You got the crowd, I got the show You get the bid I got the flow, real niggaz ready to hit the Pen Drop down Volvo in the wind, serving these hoes from nine to ten Doing this here since way back when, all about hitting the skins Drop her off hit the wind, back on the block now it's on again Charge on pussy trafficking, P-I-M-P'ologist Got the green phsycologist, now you niggaz wanna ride to this S-L-A-B at you punk, hit the switch pop the trunk You niggaz really don't wanna fuck with us, like dangerous can't slang with us Matter fact you niggaz can't hang with us, in a right hand wheel done tang with us We done taken this game to a whole 'nother level, Slow Loud And Bang with us so it ain't no claiming us [Jay'Ton:] Ay, it's that boy Jay Tipping up the block, in a Hu-Humvay Nigga please, we repping S-L-A-B Body rocking and dropping, and flipping glass 3's White tee, starched down in my Sean jeans So clean, with a mouthpiece that'll go bling My team pulling up for the spotlight, and I know that it's not right But dropping a stretched bike, from Ike Blue over grey, with Trae and the Big Bice My chain be full of ice, and no it ain't nothing nice Keeping you looking twice, like hoes at a stop light It's S.L.A.B. that they recite, on a block in a late night [A3:] A3'zy I bring hat, seven screens fall in a Cadillac One false move I'll break your back, hull a nigga like I hull a track Leave a nigga out just like a mat, wrestle track when I bust a gat Catch me in the lot with the trunk cracked, swangas on fifth wheel it's laid back We slip and slide stride and glide, trunk kit committing suicide Lean in the Benz with the bubble eyes, everything we own is customized S.L.A.B. trick'll leave you hypnotized, upside is on the rise Gorilla nigga don't be surprised, Dead End till the day I die [Hook] [ It's That S.L.A.B. Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]
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