Lyrics All I Have - Trae Tha Truth

All I Have

What’s up baby, Paul Wall
I’m Slow, Loud And Bangin' baby
Color Changin' Click-Clack two in your back
Chamillionaire.com, I’m just saying though
We ain’t even much tripping on these females
Like that you know I’m saying, these honey dips
We ain’t loving these dips
Naw we loving our cars, you know I’m taln' bout
We loving our slabs, we treating our slabs
Like they our gals, you feel me
But uh, we gon let this music speak for itself
You know I’m tal’n bout, it’s gon explain it
What’s up Trae, break em off
See my slab is all I got, and it won’t never change
You can see me top down on the block, bobbing and weaving through lanes
With the Color Changin' Click, so sick with a trunk banging
Paint staining leaving the block wet, just like as if it was raining
I ain’t the one to be capping cat, but my slab be off the chain
Four T.V.'s and a PS3, tinted up high when I swang
Maabing in the old school, but I’m looking so playa
With a 4−4 cocked under my seat, cause I’m ready for haters
With wood all on my do’s, 20's shining like I was smiling
Profiling like I’m a G, and a G is what I’ma be
I’m on dubs with my drop top, with a trunk popped
On a bop that wanna be jocking, my balling’ll never stop
When I pull up to the red light, people breaking they neck
Cause everybody rub a neck, and like I got in a wreck
I’m in a slab Jimmy slab, so I guess I should mention
That my purple people eater’s, the center of attention
My car’s kinda similar, to the leaves in Autumn
Cause the paint changing colors, and the T.V.'s falling
I’m in a foreign BMW, with the chrome all shimmering
The INS harass me, cause my car’s an immigrant
My gray goose Mercedes, got a green card as well
With lap top T.V. screens, is sponsored by Dell
Chamillionaire.com satellite, I’m logged on when I drop
Posting messages until I arrive, I love my slab baby
See my slab, is all I haaave
Candy paint dripping, buck on leather
T.V.'s shining, swinging on glaaass
Top fell back, in sunny weather
Watching haters watch, as I fly paaass
In a old school, that floats like a feather
Roll slow up the block, and crawling my slaaab
Now they all know, we stacking our cheddar
I’m addicted to balling, my screens steady be falling
Dedicated to being playa, so them boppers be calling
And loving the way I swang, banging and gripping grain
Riding the boulevard, till the neighbors start to complain
Balling is a habit, and I can’t stop if I wanted
I pop the trunk clicking screens, so my face’ll be on it
I tried to stop and catch a bop, but my rims kept going
I’m crawling two miles per hour, so everybody be blowing
I’m 17 diamonds gleam, harder than Mr. Clean
Shining showing reflection, so niggas think it’s a dream
I’m a Southside S.L.A.B.
nigga, representing it wreckless
With plates under my slab, that read «don't fuck with Texas»
My seats recline in my slab, that’s all I have fuck a lady
Cause I’m infatuated with droppers, and bubble eyes on Mercedes
Candy coated paint when I floss in the winter, or summer time
Still I be slip and sliding on buck, while my trunk stay on incline
I shine and I grind daily, bopping hoes wanna date me and rape me
But a nigga be dismissing 20 of em, my slab lady
Lately a nigga been in a daze, thinking bout the wood on my dash
So I commits to swing and bang beat up blocks, with my mind focused on cash
Won’t crash holding my wood grain, Hiram-Clarke repping my hood mayn
Lil B repping S.L.A.B., Slow Loud and yes a nigga do bang
In a slab that’s all I have, I’m still balling out of control
Sitting low crawl slow in a fo' do', as I drop my top screens unfold
(*talking*)
For real, know I’m tal’n bout
We love our slabs, more than these hoes
We put our money into our slabs, not these hoes
It’s pimping, you know I’m saying, but shit
It’s plain to see, I love to take the top off my bitch
Raise they ass up and wave it on you hoes
Slow, Loud And Bangin' style, you feel me
I know y’all feel me