Oh (S.l.a.b.) E

I pull up on the block, trunk knock the Kids off. The fifth lock, but I'm still 'bout To get pissed off. Swaggers on the everyday base. Raw by the law. I don't want another case For the nigga named Grace. So we put it In they face with the back drop low and The front cocked up with the top up. Might as well hit the block up for the Drop lock up with a Glock cocked up, but I ain't a pop up. put the rock up And shine they asses off. Like Roy Pain, I'm coming out the song. Got diamonds in my phone when I'm on my Route. Throwbacks screwed up. Know what I'm talking 'bout. Hey, niggas say that They don't know about a G, but I bet They know a G when I pull up on A D-U-V for the S-U-C S-L-A-B T-R-A-E M-double-A-B. I'm sick with it. Niggas never get with it. Brick and a mic guaranteed I'm the shit with It. Better write hard 'fore you try to come And spit with it. If not be the next Nigga that I'm quick with it. A to the B to the N, attitude not a friend. Niggas wanna try to win, but they better think Again 'fore I put 'em in a wind with A pad and a pen. Goddamn, Lil Trey going At it for V. You ain't never seen Lil Boss bossing the name. Lil Boss trying to get A bigger vault and some change. Stay G 'cause players get lost in the game. Nigga try to throw a little salt in your Name. If I get the word, nigga, then I'm Offing you, man. And your partner trying to get My niggas off of you, man. Never need a Coffin, nigga, 'cause it's off to the band to The six-foot zip lock and off to the sand. The dope fiends will get you if I opt For a gram just to see up on the Corner with the saw for my hand. To the kitchen to get hard, then it's off For the grams. Throw with my hooks, you soft With your hands. I know you niggas seen us Looking awesome up in Austin, cocked up in the Old school steady stalking. All my niggas steady Crip'n, some Falk'n. My Blood niggas on the right side steady balkan. We flow loud and banging how we roll. Pop the trunk, know it's gon' blow. How we do it down in Texas, we flow, Flow, flow. Let's go. We be riding for a dough. Come with the clutch, y'all better go. We'll put your head down to the floor, Yo. Southside G's spin on twentys. Caddy Cadillacs on eighty-fours. Top all down and the trunk raise up. Fifty South, motherfucker, that's how we roll. Raisein' hell at the detail. Spraying bams. Chrome chopped up. On the screw we jam. Turn it up, let It bang as the Crip on grain. S-U-C, we off the chain. Four-door Magnum when I roll with Trey, bro. And then in the three low sitting this way. Expo chopper and blue Caddy knocking. Southside G's and ain't no stopping. 'Cause the rims keep going, man, Drake keep flowing. Dough keep blowing, codeine pouring. Oh yeah, motherfucker, know the South still hold it. H-Town shining, showing glory. VVS ones in my neck and in my mouth. White gold, blue diamonds, know I'm talking 'bout Can't front it, F-the-K. Execute, go live. One hundred till the end, baby, that's no die. Real till I fall, that's how that go. Ride or get rolled, we expose a ho. Play pussy, get fucked. They'll never Body burnt, Toe tag on the curb, bro. Let it bang every morning, candy rain and screens. Fall and die from the roof, we fresh and Clean. Southwest side of Houston, we got that green. And keep a white cup full of that lean. Dirty South, we clowning, cuz. Indo dro blowing killer bud. On the V technician drinking jug. Going hard in the bitch, you gotta feel that Cut. Them fuck niggas really be about nowadays. All out the door, running they mouth the fly Way. But I know one thing, they don't wanna Try Trey. Have 'em like four, you and Boss Hitting sideways. Center days, I'm a representative For the South. Never too good, so they know I'll bear niggas out. Like a new set of Fours, I'll be wearing niggas out. L4s poking out, so I'm clearing niggas out. So loud and banging like me and Boss. And you can tell I'm out the clique from The way I floss. The black whip brand new, But it's wicked tossed. I thought the top was Attached, but that bitch got tossed. I'm on the flip through the North, riding through The four-four. See the homie Lil Crip Shep with The five-four. If it gotta get G'd, just know We got more. Sixteen come fast, but the pain Go slow. These hoes don't know that I'm raw In the game. Raw on the block, still on Foreign trim, man. Got ninety-nine ways that I'm Grabbing a grand. For the two-five, gotta keep 'em Off of me, man. And nowadays niggas say I'm Lost in the game. These cats gon' see I'm A boss in the game. And I pack my Weight, never soft in the game. OG P, I'ma be a hog in the game. We flow, flow loud and banging how we roll. Pop the trunk, know it's gon' blow. How we do it down in Texas, we flow, Flow, flow. Let's go. We be riding for a dough. Come with the clutch, y'all better go. We'll put your head down to the floor, Yo. F-L-A-B, B-E. Flow loud and banging, that's that C-L-I-C. And we spray or knock on any day if Your block up buzzing, shit. We taking heads on all of y'all who wanna Be talking shit. We in that kitchen cooking. Watch out, them po-po's looking. Get that dope, slap a ho. Let him know his block is ticking, throw. In H-Town, we riding slow, Slow. Grab the keys, start the slab. Chuck the deuce, get some dab. Swing the block, cut the corner. Hand on Glock, mind on cash. Chasing after the American dream. All or nothing, trying to stack that green. Nothing lose if you ain't down with us. Don't straddle the fence, you on the wrong team. Grab a white cup and pour up the drink. So much mud, I can hardly think. In the line riding stab by stab. Ain't nothing but chrome and that platinum paint. It's Paul Wall and my partner Trey. J Turner, that boy Lil Boss. Keep it cool and don't cross the line or It's guaranteed that you'll get bust off. Jammin' ABN, so you know I ride slab. Back in the gap, I was calling the Ave. I don't slow my pace to give a nigga Some dab. I'm deuce out the roof when I Be flipping a loop. In 59, getting bent on Cologne tonight. And the Trey on Blodgett, laws stay Hot, bro. I gon' clip through the mo. Fuck with Shep Dogg, got the four-four. Off your trunk, T-R-A-E. We still body rock, four P-A-T. I'm coming out the South, no ice in my Mouth. I'm slow, loud, and banging on a paper Route. A lot of these cats, they envy me. I'm hella fly, cool on GP. Rap shit locked, it's in the figure four. Name another young cat that's throwed as Ken Dro.