| Yeah it’s that T, you know I’m tal’n bout
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| In this bitch, for that boy Trae b-day
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| It’s going down, know I’m saying
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| Happy b-day boy, Pee-Weezy off the heezy
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| S.L.A.B., Slow Loud in your face
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| Feel this, it’s going down
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| Wide body fo' do', skating up the block
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| Got my trunk on knock, when I’m swanging the lot
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| With a bubble eyed bitch, lighting up your life
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| Flying pass all yemps, cause hoes’ll get shife
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| I swang and swing, down M-L-King
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| Drop screens on the scene, so my TV’s gleam
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| I got a bad ass bitch, that’s on my team
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| I got a thoed ass Glock, with a big ass beam when I’m
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| Sitting sideways, with a three piece suiter
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| Got a thoed broad, but my bitch cuter
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| Screens gon fall, digitell computer
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| 24 karat cut, ice might cool ya
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| When I school ya ooh ya, better stay on your toes
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| Iced out Movado, might keep your eyes froze
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| Glassy ass 4's, and I’m in playa mode
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| Pass it to the Trae, so he can unload
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| Me and Re pulling up, steady fucking em up
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| Chopping em up on the cut, still sliding on buck
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| With a hundred dollar cup, yelling out bitch what
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| You wanna do on the cool, cause we be acting a fool
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| With the blue over grey boys, (we don’t play boys)
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| Straight off top, and we’ll bust AK boy
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| Make noise, whenver we be crawling the block
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| (you know the shit don’t stop, till the cash get dropped)
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| We Southside to body rock, the bumper unlock
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| Two thee off the lot, so the bops gon jock
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| And the niggas wanna block, when I’m balling in the mix
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| With BJ and Shay, throwing up the South Klique
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| South Klique is what we claim, and niggas you know the name
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| We swang and bang, with diamonds all in our chain
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| From Antione to South Main, we bringing the pain
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| Slabbed out for life, and leaving stains on brains
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| You leaving stains on brains, I’m leaving stains on wax
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| Breaking they back in a Lac, with the trunk on crack
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| The fifth wheel on lean, yellow bops on ping
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| With a sag in my jeans, living the thug life dream
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| As a ghetto superstar, white cup full of bar
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| Dropping the top in the wind, so you know who we are
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| You can’t see, it’s the Trae and Lil B
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| (playa made for life, till we D-I-E)
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| S.L.A.B., time to drop tops
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| Swanging off the lots, while you hoes be bopping
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| S.L.A.B., when your trunk knock
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| Beating down your block, while niggas body rocking
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| It’s that boy Jay, pulling up thoed in a Hum-Vae
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| (shit) all the boppers say, he got a different ride everyday
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| (damn) on top of that, 18's beating with my trunk cracked
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| (man) I’ma wreck the track, while O and E smoking on a black
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| (S.L.A.B.) Slow Loud And Bangin, see us in the hood orangatanging
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| (please) why you hoes be capping, you ain’t got no ass and your titties sagging
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| (bitch) get out my face, 'fore Jay fuck around and catch a case
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| (bling) my ice so bright, you look like your face been sprayed with mace
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| I pull up to the club, in some’ing that’s stretched
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| 32 inches around, my neck
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| Guerilla Maab, all in my deck
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| Dougie D and Trae, just wrecked
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| A skeet taste, on 3D-2
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| Slowed down and chopped, by DJ Screw
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| Me missing you, still riding blue
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| Leather seats, with choppers too
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| I’m 18, and I;m versatile
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| Ice white gold, when I crack a smile
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| Back that ass up, like Juvenile
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| Been freestyling, for a little while
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| When I cross your ride, I commit a foul
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| They’ll tell you, I ball
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| Catching boppers, coming out the mall
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| Dead End, wrecked the Seawall
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| Little Dre, I forever ball
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| Ain’t nothing, but the motherfucking slab I’m in
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| Pull em right up off of the lot, up in a big boy Benz
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| Blue lens and setting trends, making boppers grin
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| Coming down the boulevard, drop the top and down low sixing
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| They don’t wanna try to fade us, cause we just so throwed
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| Slow Loud And Bangin baby, that’s the way we roll
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| Put it in the deck heads checking, the boppers stay wet
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| Cause a natural effect, whenever I step on the set
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| I be known to get fly, when I drop my top
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| Step out body rocking, because the shit don’t stop
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| Can’t quit won’t move, cause I’m a cold ass dude
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| Put it all up in they face, cause that’s just the way I do
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| Hold up you ain’t knew, the way that we come through
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| Chilling with thug G’s, sip and bang Screw
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| Yup love it mayn, oh baby yes we do
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| Shit ain’t gon stop, until we say to |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Slab Shotz , by - Trae Tha Truth. Song from the album Slow, Loud and Bangin', Vol. 1, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп