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s.l.a.b. - more or less lyrics

[hook]
a lot of n-ggas, wanna see me in my grave (more or less)
i be ready for the drama, anyday (more or less)
go to war, in the midst of gun play (more or less)
on your street, with the sweet (it ain’t no need to have a vest)
a lot of n-ggas, wanna see me in my grave (more or less
i be ready for the drama, anyday (more or less)
go to war, in the midst of gun play (more or less)
only taking head shots, (it ain’t no need to have a vest)

[z-ro]
when i roll i roll solo, with my 4-4 on the side of me for company
wishing a n-gga and his cl!ck, would think about jumping me
six enexchangable clips, seventeen bullets in each
that’s a hundred and twelve reasons, a whole street could be deceased
right when i was trying to change, fellas start playing games
brought me back to reality, my sanity’s now insane
i be busting for nothing homie, i’m addicted to shots
blame my hood, cause that’s just the way it is on my block
i got a bad att-tude, cause i’m use to beefing
they’ll never take me alive, the reason for no sleeping
so when a n-gga come after me, i’ma hit him where it hurt
i’ll let him make it, but his mama and daddy gon see a he-rs-
f-ck a driveby, i want him to look me in my eyes
let him call junior on his mobile, just to say goodbye
so call my name out, and watch how everybody run for cover
cause they know i’m a heartless motherf-cker, until i die

[hook]

[archie lee]
this be the realest sh-t i ever wrote, and you can quote me cuz
i’m from the block where we hopeless thugs, but we suppose to thug
a lot of n-ggas hate, a few show love
but that only keep me focused cuz, i got my heater with me
so when them n-ggas, try to get me on the creep no
they getting merked, in they fresh white t oooh
h-wood, be the set i claim
southside we connected mayn, world respected mayn
hitman, be the number one honcho
get that white from poppy, and that green from poncho
slab riding, got me loaded and c-cked
much love to my n-gga trae, good looking out

[trae]
i heard they coming to get me, but it ain’t gon be no easy task
see me with the mac-11, sending fifty through your gl-ss
am i losing my mind, i don’t know and i don’t really give a d-mn
but these motherf-ckers, gon know who i am
plus d-nkie shot a kite, and told me watch out for you hating -ss n-ggas
run up on me, i’ll be putting you in a grave -ss n-ggas
now i’m riding, with my super entourage of hot sh-lls
and if they catch up wit ya, garunteed they bringing h-ll
let me take you to, another level of mind
to get a closer look at death, before i flatten your line
you done it this time, and ain’t no way you getting away
i put this on me and my son, it won’t be safe where you stay

[hook]

[boss]
that n-gga don’t wanna see me, with my black mask
but that’s alright, cause i got a scheme for his black -ss
see i believe, in creeping with reacons
i know where your girlfriend stay b-tch, you be there every weekend
riding up in a regal, d-eagle under the seat
i’m about to put six of them thangs, up under your meat
you got a hole in your neck, you need iv’s to eat
i gotta show you the real way, of greeting n-ggas with heat
i pull a black mac up out the pack, walking from that cadillac
sipping on a low o-e, fired up like a battlecat
n-ggas don’t wanna take it there, with lil’ boss
i be f-cking with b.d.’s, b-tch i can get ya lost

[lil’ b]
i’m sick and tired of you n-ggas underestimating, and thinking i’m fake
you’ll be the first example, of catching a slug to the chest plate
break n-ggas for fun, when they try to use guns
i can throw hands, but you n-ggas so quick to try to run
to the trunk and wanna dump, old chump -ss n-gga
you’ll get found, floating off in a swamp -ss n-gga
my cl!ck k!llas, and i’m the young guerilla of the pack
the true definition, of making n-ggas back-back
f-ck a size, i’ll demolish ’em all small or tall
it don’t matter, bet your b-tch -ss fall
more or less so go on plex, if you think you’re ready
buck shots’ll stretch your flesh, like spaghetti

[jay’ton]
i guess you thought that it was over, when you pulled the 12 gauge
and i won’t get no rest, until i see you in your grave
last time to start checking when i hit the block, looking for cats
and since we playing dirty, you just might catch four in your back
nonstop, i bet you n-ggas finna know about me
i’m only 18, but still i’m cl-ssified as a g
i run with the best, them n-ggas that’ll leave you wrapped up
in a black truck, you don’t want the heat clapped up
better back up, n-gga i’m a -ssh0l-
everything in this camp, surrounded by the cash flow
plus i live on the block, i know i’m being watched by the fed’s
but i’ma still put a hot slug, dead in your braids

[hook]

- s l a b lyrics

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