| Love it mayne — love it mayne
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| Love it mayne — love it mayne
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| Love it mayne — love it mayne
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| Love it mayne — love it mayne
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| Yeah this the remix
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| Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| These bitches wanna see a nigga roll
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| Five — fifty flossin, leave the tag for the toe
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| Ice cold AC, butter scotch guts
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| Hard top Benz with the roof popped up
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| Every tooth rocked up, nigga swangin with the Glock nine
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| Sixty duece cocked up, bangin at the stop sign
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| And I’m a pass, not my nigga H.A.W.K dogg — I’m a miss
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| Everytime I think about him when I’m drivin, I’m a just (I'm a just)
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| I’m a Screwed Up Affliated, strictly rollin red
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| Everytime we hit the parking lot, we turn heads
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| I’ve been watched by parole — task forcin by the feds
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| Cause they know I got e’m for ten and they know the game ain’t dead
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| It’s too late I’m deep up in it, ain’t nothin about me scary
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| Chiefin in the club, tryna find me somethin hairy
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| Pimpin at the bar — smokin on a stoggy
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| Since I came home from the Pen seems like everybody knows me
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| Slim Thugga, motherfucker!
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| The trunk bang with the belts, while I swang to the left
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| Pop my trunk and yup, yup, yup
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| Chrome spokes when I step down the ave in the slab (huh)
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| Pull up to the wash, give the Cadillac a bath
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| My car lookin mirror, peanut butter interior
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| Poppin trunks, surround they can’t sound no clearer
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| They like damn, he here that boy Thugga shut e’m down
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| Them Blue Boys shinin’all over H — Town
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| I gotta shout my niggas in Houston (aye Trae — what up)
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| They ride old school, and they system in screwin (aye Bun B)
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| I’m from New York so in my city we cruisin (Eastside)
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| Them '06 whips with the glittery jewels — in (Mazarati's)
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| I don’t go in the club till I get all my goons in (not at all)
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| Them bouncers don’t frisk so we get all our tools in (keep the gats)
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| And yeah we cop the bottles, get the bitches to groovin (shake it ma)
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| And won’t you tell the DJ, it’s a Dipset intrusion
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| Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| I’m the king, I’m the mayor of the city — got the game locked down
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| I roll twelve cars, one with my top down
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| I be swangin in that candy, they don’t understand me
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| Got my slab complete, watch me pull up on this brandy
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| I’m swangin in this slab with the peanut butter guts
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| If she hop inside my ride then the bitch know she gon’fuck
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| I ain’t playin with no skeezer, the ho know I don’t need her
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| I pull out my Visa to tease her, not please her
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| They see the diamonds shinin — hand on the wood wheel
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| Even though I sold a mill, streets got me hood still
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| I still swang to the left, 84's sittin under Tha Truth
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| And these haters watchin my moves, from the way I butterflyed the Coupe
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| I’m black over alligator so niggas know that I got it
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| Trunk lift up at the light but my droppa remainin squated
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| Still bangin my Screw, doin my thing
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| See the sun been out on me, but they swear I been in the rain
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| My swangas poke out so wide like I’m ridin in double lanes
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| Texan wide wheels lookin like they never stoppin mayne — I’m a…
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| Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup
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| I’m a swang, and I swang, and I swang to the left
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| Pop my trunk for Fat Pat’s death
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| I would give my last breath if I could bring you back |
| Bring Screw back, matter of fact bring the whole crew back
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| Only God can do that so I’m a leave it alone
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| Movin alone, groovin to this soothin song
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| I’m cruisin along, wishin Cory Blunt was home
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| Well I’m a swang, I’m a swang, I’m a swang to the right
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| I’m comin down candy on swangas — it’s super tight
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| When I pull up at the light, at a quarter to midnight
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| You pull up right — scared to death, gotta call in the life flight
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| UGK is back on the slab and turnin the wheel
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| Once again the Bun and the Pimp, the return of the trill
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| You can love to hate us, or hate to love us — it ain’t a thing
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| To them Underground Kingz, we still gon’swang
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| I put the H up in the air for that A dub K
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| That fifth wheel, bow down and pray I’m brandy wine over gray
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| I’m swangin with Trae, sprayed by my home boy Ed
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| That third coast custom paint job, got me lookin ready
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| That Swisha House around my neck — Johhny Dang on my wrist
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| Trunk bang like ABN with wood grain on my fist
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| Cadillac by David Taylor with retractable roof
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| Swangin and bangin on that Screw and throwin boys that duece, It’s Paul Wall…
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| Love it mayne — love it mayne
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| Love it mayne — love it mayne
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| Love it mayne — love it mayne
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| Love it mayne — love it mayne |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Swang Remix (Slabed) , by - Trae. Song from the album Tha Truth Show - Street Edition, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп