Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Slidin, artist - Clyde Carson. Date of issue: 16.04.2020
Song language: English
Slidin |
| Finna give my saucier some new |
| Turned up of that juice, like I’m sunny, bro |
| Topped-down on that stain, when it’s sunny, though |
| We’ll be talkin' 'bout it, but it ain’t 'bout the money, though |
| We used to fight, put on gloves and the would begin |
| Hit the ways and go some rounds, just to see where it hints |
| That’s the reason why that nigga murda turned up |
| I catch any bae, you wanna get on first stop? |
| Look, but the first got away |
| I gave it to PA, when I caught my first case |
| I felt like a boss when I bought my first place |
| I felt like a mack when I got my first Mercedes |
| Posers on the suburban, I’m standin' on the roof |
| Sideshowin' a East, some haters caught on foot |
| Bitch, go get a bag, then come home and cook |
| Wood over her wrap and all this is Kush |
| (Slidin') Sippin' mixed liquor with your bitch, homie |
| (Slidin') Switchin' lanes, she tryna put her lips on me |
| (Slidin') I got, packed-up in my, homie |
| (Slidin') She was opposite, you like the trip, homie |
| (Slidin') I’mma be that nigga, please don’t be salty |
| (Slidin') Got you lookin' crazy when you speak on me |
| (Slidin') Be smarter nigga, tryna reach on me |
| (Slidin') Dog ass nigga, ain’t no leech on me |
| She’s a chooser, I’m a user |
| That ain’t my boo thang, no that shit’s my booster |
| Red-white dice fallin' on the pool table |
| It’s been Hennessy for breakfast and a Dosa |
| (Slidin') All of you of niggas for the, yeah |
| (Slidin') Double-back bitch nigga got a semi |
| (Slidin') Step-in in some steppers, it’s designer |
| (Slidin') Got a brand new bitch, and she the finest |
| Ran about the house but what was I lookin' for, then I found it |
| my pinkie is, weakest nigga be the loudest |
| Play to much, yo nigga childish, bunch of mind games |
| Got a pie up on the counter, bunch of high grapes |
| Deal with Ferguson, a room and my uncles |
| Drivin' for a week, hit the road when we talkin' |
| How much do we own? |
| Show-money, just for walkin' |
| Highway, cross another state, we ain’t yet |
| (Slidin') Sippin' mixed liquor with your bitch, homie |
| (Slidin') Switchin' lanes, she tryna put her lips on me |
| (Slidin') I got, packed-up in my, homie |
| (Slidin') She was opposite, you like the trip, homie |
| (Slidin') I’mma be that nigga, please don’t be salty |
| (Slidin') Got you lookin' crazy when you speak on me |
| (Slidin') Be smarter nigga, tryna reach on me |
| (Slidin') Dog ass nigga, ain’t no leech on me |