Lyrics We Swang 4's - Trae Tha Truth, JL, Jay'ton

We Swang 4's

Still representing trying to hold it down, you know I’m saying
(we ain’t tripping, fuck what you heard), on the cool you know I’m saying
A lot of niggas out there hating, getting this shit twisted nigga
(love you boy), I’ma ride for life
Screw-U I’m only ten, but it feel like I’m bigger
Repped the whole Southside, you was everybody nigga
That’s a fact, I’ma call it how I see it
Them other niggas cheated, but you can’t be defeated
It’s the J-Dub, showing love from the heart
You built some’ing, that them niggas can’t take apart
Screwed up the whole neighborhood, even Houston
Even us kids, representing for the Screwston
Even to this day, it ain’t a damn thang changed
I’m still riding for the cause, I gotta make it through the pain
Remember us, we was liver than most of these niggas on the street
And I ain’t lying, when I found out that you flied I couldn’t take it inside
You was blue on Impalas, and turning heads on the 'vard
And being real on these streets, and keeping these fake niggas scarred
Was Shorty Mac and Al-D, this your lil' nigga Trae
Blue over grey top down, lighting up the freeway
Catch us crawling down the Boulevard, sitting on 4's
Hollin' at the bitches, and we getting at the hoes
You know we thoed, blowing smoke out our nose
We show up and po' up, that’s the way the game goes
We doing our thang, with a fist full of grain
Pop the trunk on these punks, let these niggas see the bang
Switching lane to lane, jamming Screw fa sho
Rest in peace to my nigga, while we blowing the dro what
S.L.A.B., coming through
We got some, brand new shit for you
I really, miss my nigga Screw
That’s why, we steady paying dues
Nothing but that Southside shit, and we still missing Screw
Chopped up and banging, niggas hollin' what it do
This for you, represent it and come through
Capers ripping never tripping, niggas always keep it true
Riding blue, can’t forget the grey side pieces
Cause you never could be defeated, though them hate niggas cheated
Got to beat it, from sun up to sun down
And this is how it go down, Screwed Up and slowed down
S.L.A.B.
soldiers mashing on, can a nigga feel a G
R.I.P.
to the Screw, you didn’t even know me
But you get much respect, I keep your tape in my deck
From Y2-Grey to Independent, stay to Who’s Next To Plex
Either tape won’t eject, it was a Southside classic
Boys done got wrecked, crawling through the school traffic
Niggas be laughing, at them fake ass scrubs
Candy painted by that Jack, cause I knew you loved blue
Paying dues nigga, I refuse to lose
SUV’s on 22's, staying strapped like shoes
I’m a young nigga, putting it all on the line
You better give me fifty feet, cause ain’t no stopping my shine
I gotta get it nigga, I can’t settle for less
Remember seeing DJ Screw, up in a blue SS
Chop the scene bending corners, better believe that you missed
Slow Loud And Bangin, got these niggas feeling this
It started at Broadway, from the Mo to the West
And Lord knows, me and DJ Screw use to do this
Bounce-bounce, and body rock to this
Down South Screwed Up Click, is the motherfucking shit
Pee Wee ain’t tripping, just grain gripping and tipping
He’s in my mind hold it down, going hard with this pimping
Block bleeding, pray to the Lord got me shown
I had it hard but it’s on, god damn why he gone
Where would I be, without Screw
(where would I be, without Screw)
Where would I be, without Screw
(wheeere, would I be)
I’m a S.L.A.B.
soldier, mashing on for the Screw
If they talking down, I’m yelling out what it do
Six cars deep, candy red or the blue
Grey cassette, my tape stamped by you
Can’t no other take your place, cause you’s the best
Screwed Up Records & Tapes, so fuck the rest
You a true Southsider, 6−10 glider
Off the chain, we gonna miss you mayn
Hop out the fo' do', with a mouth piece to glow
Bitch niggas be hating us, why I keep a 4−4
Chips only wash up, screens to Acapulco
Lord knows, that we miss you Screw
And it’s me the T, and we gon still love you
Coming through in the blue, on blades and dots
Chopping blocks, trunk pops and sailing the South
And to you bitch niggas, keep my name out your mouth
Screw opened the do' for a lot of cats, we gon chop it up we gon bring it back
South Klique that is a fact, S.U.C.
with my trunk cracked
Bound to kill with Shorty Mac, a verbal attack when I earn my plack
My mouth piece like selling crack, chop say with panamax
I miss that boy so I blaze a bag, in the turning lane I’m sitting fat
Screwed up the way you did that, D.E.A.
we got your back
It’s the Jay’Ton, little brother of the Trae
We kicked it a few times, and met on the Beltway
You was a real nigga, and I looked up to that
Screwed up on every track, I wish I could bring you back
The real gon peep real, and real gon peep fake
Screwed Up Records & Tapes, that’s all I gotta say
R.I.P.
Screw-U, you know we gon hold it down
Slow Loud And Bangin, all over H-Town