S.L.A.B. - Where We Gone Swang lyrics

What's the deal
This some'ing you know I'm saying
On the laid back note
Ain't always gotta be wired up
Sit back parlay and feel it
You know I'm saying
We still putting it in they face
And if you don't know
SLAB, Slow Loud And Bangin
Forever gon show up
But ay I want you to peep this

Me and Trae popped up
Hot sunny day we cocked up
Grip the wood screens fall
Drop the top sliding on the buck
Fifth relax trunk cracked
Mind only on paper stacks
Swang 4's on a candy Lac
Chrome for haters who wanna jack
Watch my back in the turning lane
Swang and bang with a piece and chain
Diamond cuts princess cut
Don't trust a slut seven inch screens rain
Crawl slow trunk glow
Me and Trae bout to wreck a show
Can't forgot about Dougie D
Jay'Ton and Lil' T lil' B is who I am
Sitting sideways don't give a damn
Beans and rice candy yams
You might see me on the front of Slam
Magazine diamonds gleam, 32 inch bezeltyne
Plenty of starch up in my jeans
Running through hoes like Natron Means
On the field with the ball
Knocking pictures off your wall
Don't need the dope in my drawas
Riding legit fuck the laws
Inspection sticker license plates
Twenty-two coats candy sprayed
Hit the club valet
Playa made with a bald fade
'Sacci shades up on my face
Nice crunk thighs with a itty-bitty waist
Sugar brown pop surround
Bump and grind when I make my rounds
Press rewind when I'm in the deck
Candy coated private jet
Only like my pussy wet
Legs up when I'm having sex

Southside, is where we gon swang
Pulling up thoed, when I'm rolling
Crawling up the block, doing my thang
TV screens, steady showing

I'm lane to lane when I wreck the block
Pull out slow so the boppers bop
Got ten thee in the stash spot
Finna put mo' shit up in my drop tops
We bubble eyed lighting up the night
With Doug on the fo' mixed up with Sprite
Spitting out flows that's out of sight
With Rock on the track we breaking mics
Better turn your head we living reckless
Know y'all know don't fuck with Texas
Why these fake niggas wanna test us
Nigga like me ain't barring plexes
I'm thinking slow but I'm moving fast
No hub caps I'm riding glass
Me and my boo into Hiram-Clarke
With a yellow bitch that got a lot of ass
Pardon me no disrespect
Say baby girl wanna hit the X
In a late night on a freaky tip
Hop in the car let's go on dip
Moving on in mash mode
All about making my cash flow
Hating on me ain't the thing to do
M double A-B might act a fool
I'm getting down like James Brown
Far far back when I'm on recline
In my click I'ma lead the line
So a nigga like me ain't hard to find
With frog eyes on a Cadillac
I know y'all niggas be feeling that
On the grind for the paper stack
Got a red beam for the next to jack
Ain't no knocking we riding clean
Got a nigga named Screw nicknamed the King
Without a doubt he made the South
Everybody else better close they mouth
I ride for that I love Screw-U
Mayn that's a fact
And don't none of y'all ever forget that
Talking down might get you slapped nigga

Southside, crawling -