[Untitled Track]

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S.L.A.B.

Year:

2005

2:50

125 Views

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[Lil B]
You can catch a nigga roaming the lot hugging the glock, dogging the drop
Creeping on some'ing, that's chrome and don't stop
I'm a street nigga, associated with thugs
That's why my trunk popped up, gangbanging like Crips and Bloods
I crawl when I creep, looking for a dime piece
That's down to get knocked down, like porno freaks
I'm just a ghetto superstar, that's trying to climb out the hood
So if you haters thinking jack, I'll bust a round if you would
Try to plot come on my block, my slugs will meet ya
And greet ya, social security will have to delete ya
Hating people, my Desert Eagle's giving haters no love
Wanna find me, I'll be roaming the lot f*ck the club

[Hook]
You can catch me in the lot, trunk on pop
F*ck a bottle with a bug, you can catch me with a glock
Slow Loud and Bangin, still swanging in a drop
Top down for the bops, but my rims don't stop
(you can catch me in the lot, nigga f*ck the club
Rather chill with my thugs, when I'm banging on dubs
Some niggaz hate, the other half show me love
When a nigga mean mug, I'ma greet him with a slug)

[Boss]
You can catch me in the lot, with a big gat squashing all chit-chat
Finding a parking spot, to the drop the Focus it'll sit flat
These niggaz don't, wanna upset Boss
Hopping fly, might lead to a right hand cross
One of the homies trailing behind, the blue Yukon
Banging and hanging sets, with that blue Duke on
He got a heater on him, he don't say much so I don't speak on him
Niggaz act like they want our spinners, more than we want em
But down in H-Town, we ain't scared of no jackers
Rushing through the park, looking like a linebacker
Leave the murder scene, on my gold and chrome adaptors
We young block bleeders, gangstas paper stackers

[Jay'Ton]
Cruising the Boulevard, with the trunk on wave
It's the Jay'Ton, so you know I don't play
When I bo'gaurd the block, better get out my way
If you f*ck up my slab, I'ma f*ck up your day
So back-back, before my click get on your ass
And we don't need a mask, for them niggaz talking too fast
In a blue tipping and turning, wrecking 'em while I'm swanging
Call me an O.G., the way my trunk banging
F*ck roaming the club, I'ma knock the top off
And show you how we be stunting, in the Dirty Dirty South
They mouth be wide open, stuck like they wet
I bet, these niggaz gon respect my set

[Hook]

[Trae]
You better get out of dodge, my entourage coming quicker than flash
That's your ass, Slow Loud And Bangin got you feeling like trash
Never need to get in the club, we be crawling the lot
Trunk popped top done dropped, on thirty some'ing dots
Out the roof one hundred proof, on a mission for bops
Yeah they try to get my attention, but the rims don't stop
Entertaining up in my slab, got 'em riding my jock
Throwback "Fondren & Main", got 'em doing the wop
See the mind frame is fast, and the wide frame is slow
My game is too fly, my mouthpiece is thoed
Piece and chain, hitting about a hundred below
So when it get hot I'm garunteed, to be pulling a hoe
Whether in a silver bullet, or in a Excursion
They need a anthem for the streets, and this is my version
Slow Loud And Bangin is what I'm yelling, when I be swerving
And I can show you what it do, when I hop on the curb and

[Hook - 2x]

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