Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bangin Screw , by - Paul Wall. Release date: 02.04.2007
Song language: English
Bangin Screw |
| Flyyy, heyy, hey |
| I Got dat trunk craked windows tinted, trunk craked windows tinted |
| Slowly rollin I’m banging screw |
| Slowly rollin I’m banging screw |
| Comin down so fly-y-y-y |
| Smokin leaf so high-i-i-i |
| Slowly rollin I’m banging screw, |
| Slowly rollin I’m banginig screw. |
| What it do it’s paul to the wall, |
| Chunk up tall, let the 4 screens fall, |
| Spider’s crawl gon turn up that dial and make they heads all |
| nodd like a bobble head doll, |
| Bendin corners up and down wayside, |
| From greens road to that antoine drive, |
| Crew on da side playin nba live, |
| I’m too cool for school ridin on buckhide, |
| Turnin heads when I’m on dat scott |
| Hit that french’s for a quick pit stop, |
| Boys in the mail talkin bout they on top, |
| 8 Months later all them boys flop. |
| Like it or not I’m the game and I’m showin up, keke got dat oil and we pourin |
| up, |
| Hit the club wit captain jack and big steve representin my hood still throwin |
| up. |
| Big money in the gang as the bread grow, |
| Candy old school drop top for the low, |
| Boys used to be sleepin on me but the champ is here |
| I gaurantee that they ass woke, |
| Ridin on spoke, dats the elbow, still rockin in da ice white shell toe, |
| Dis for my boys by dat kelso and you already know. |
| Yeah, I’m still on that five-9, |
| But might see me on that five-8 comin down, |
| All over the town I like to get around, |
| Jammin my fat pat screwed up underground, |
| Comin down in the lime green eighty eight, |
| While them boys on the sideline wanna hate, |
| Bump a kid for fuckin up the state plate, |
| I Must admit my life’s great, |
| T-Farris wit me in the snowbunny benz, |
| Lookin through a louey lens and we stackin up ends, |
| Bros over hoes yea I’m talkin bout friends, |
| Got freedom on my arm for my dawg lil twin, |
| Dubs on the rim that’s t.i.s, |
| Just like pretty Todd I’m g-boy fresh, |
| Got oil comin in and it’s strait from da west, |
| And grill throwin mesh on the cadillac crest, |
| Head of the best I ain’t messin wit da rest, |
| Santa clause sled thats pomegranite red, |
| Sippin that taste i take it straight to da head, |
| And dat swisha house is wat I rep till I’m dead. |
| Im tippin fo’s and I’m sippin fo’s and I’m flippin hos with my partner clue, |
| Posted up at dat TSU or dat Prarie View wit my patna Lew- |
| Hawk, boys get outlined in chalk, |
| Tryin to run up and jack my slab, |
| This one here for my boy lil kee I’m throwin duece up and gettin boys dab, |
| Pourin da juice up and grippin that ab, |
| Wavein hoods so the base showcase |
| Settin the trends steady choppin up wind with a diamond ice grin, |
| that paper I chase, |
| Taper fade by that bad boy shop, |
| Tippin slow I’m screwed up and chopped, |
| Listening to some of that bobby merl, them choppaholics, maybe that michael |
| watts, |
| Choppin the block up, holdin a full cup, |
| Breakin a strut, now I’m on them swangs, |
| Grill and woman popped trunk full of bang, |
| I’m third coast raised and I’m drippin stains, |
| Im hittin stank tryin to break that bread, |
| Slowed and throwed till the day I’m diseased, |
| Leaning tuff, i got cup full of stuff with a starched crease |
| and a johnny dang peice. |