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s.l.a.b. - when we pull out lyrics

[intro]
s.l.a.b., slow loud and bangin’
this e-money, coming at you live and direct
finna take you on a trip through the southside

[chorus]
when we pull out
you know we looking throwed, still slow loud
and bangin’ i suppose, on the southside
you know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
when we pull out
you know we looking throwed, still slow loud
and bangin’ i suppose, on the southside
you know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right

[verse 1]
yes, it’s i
the d-o-u-g-i-e from the south-a-side
i’m representing it real, ’til the day i die
forever constantly, dougie be getting high to ease my mind
as i crawl down, still knocking and beating blocks
well i suppose, i should prolly keep glocks c-cked
’cause these boys hating, nevertheless i’m still skating
looking good when i do, ’cause i ain’t got time for the faking
ain’t no carbon copies, never gon’ be another like me
one in original, hundred percent dougie for life
and ’cause we slow loud and bangin’
b-tch, that mean that we gon’ hold it down, up on our grind

[verse 2: trae]
still slow loud, and representing my clique
with a gunshot, for n-ggas riding my d-ck
if i step out, my dropper you better skate
‘fore i pull out, my heat and i start to spray
i’m a natural type of playa, on gators and bending corners
like n-ggas in california, my top’ll be dropping on ya
my paint wetter than weather, that’s rainy leaving a storm
my trunk causing a catastrophe, like vietnam
we slap shots, dope in the stash spot on switches
like hop scotch, with n-ggas that pop lock
in a blue or the red drop, with a iced out mouth piece
a gangsta high baller, for the 21st century
with genocide nola, fifty thousand we over
from whipping our baking soda, from texas to pensacola
roll a 4 and i’ma stop it and drop it, body rock it and c-ck it
red dot it and lock it, hit the stage and i rock it

[verse 3: jay’ton]
it’s jay’ton
steady flipping and flossing with the mo city don
steady pimping these b-tches, like i’m don juan
when i be stepping out, i’m rocking sean john, sean john
’cause i’m playa baby, 16 flipping mercedes
with a yellow lady, when i’m tipping it through the cady
bubble eyes on, when i’m living it in my zone
22’s surrounded by chrome, in front of my home
four door garage, i got a set of twins that’s ready for the ménage
but if you ask me, they look like mary j. blige
if i ruled the world, i’m feeling like i was nas, feeling like i was nas

[verse 4: big bee]
swing hard, on the ‘vard dog
it’s big b double e, i was born hog
i cause traffic when i ride in my orange car
i’m looking for some attention, i’m a superstar
straight out of hiram-clarke, on the southside
we roll on 84’s, and we swing wide
blowing on hydro, with the paint po’d
i’m sitting on buck skin, in my playa mode

[verse 5: mr. 3-2]
huh, slow loud, bangin’ in the deck
everybody think i’m tripping, and i’m gone off that wet
but i check ya -ss like my brand new sneaks
and put a dot on your eye, if your mouth ever leak
now take a peak, at the big boss 3-2
every time you see me, i’m sporting something brand new
what it do? what it done? b-tch, you know where i’m from
i keep a big old pistol for them n-ggas talking dumb

[verse 6: warren g]
candy red we flossing, we po’d up
southside, how you feel? we ain’t riding on horses down here
nothing but lac’s and trucks, and purple stuff on buck
swinging left-right, slow up your block
on chops, won’t stop, won’t quit
south klique on bumper kits, with screens on lit
with the boppers and shoppers
that be bopping a n-gga drop
on gl-ss choppers be chopping
while they looking like helicopters

[verse 7: e]
won’t stop, rolling on chops
it’s k all day n-gga, the cream of the crop
it never end, a youngin’ with a smile on his ends
and dividend, sprewells keep spin in the wind
now here i go, i crawl down low on 84’s
draped down in gucci clothes, and macking to all these hoes
with the k!ller piece and chain, banging slow loud and bang
as i grip up on the grain, headed to south mayn

[verse 8: lil b]
pulling out, n-gga you know we throwed
in a heavy wide frame, with j-dog and the ro
on the southside, you know we gotta hold
piece and chain gon’ swing, with a mouth full of gold
we swing left, right, knowing i don’t play
if the jackers try to come, ak gon’ spray
fewquay is where i swing, the lane and swing 4’s
n-ggas be tripping, i’m sipping and hitting fly hoes
chickens in kitchens we mixing, and flipping my dough
expedition and wishing for compet-tion, on my flow
who the n-gga that be by-bo? lil b gotta crawl down
see, breaking mics when i’m on the cypher, s.l.a.b

[verse 9: pimp skinny]
wrecking the block with the trunk open, the bumper c-cked
let my sh-t knock, i got my hand on my glock
while the haters watch, i see these b-tches on my jock
i got my mug on mean, as i p-ss i can’t stop
steady beating blocks, i gotta let the top drop
it’s just that n-gga pimp skinny, representing and never stop
i leave these haters knocked, but them 4’s can’t stop nothing
but believe i’m gangsta strutting, and ain’t gotta touch nothing
just pushing b-ttons, on the face of my remote
as i ride cough and choke, ’cause i’m gone off that k!lla smoke
but on my note, so you haters watch your back
best believe i got that gat, and i’ll rat-ta-tat-tat

[verse 10: thib]
when i pull out, corner bend a trendsetter
with my top down, baby benz gucci leather
on chrome feet, and i’m ready for whatever
with the chrome heat, you gotta have your sh-t together
just to compete, cutting concrete spinning
while the trunk beat, everywhere i go hoes grinning
like they want me, now i’m independent if they hear me
then i won’t be, collab with the s.l.a.b. hit the lab get funky
we strapped with weapons and guns, ready to stun
pack a compet-tive tongue, second to none
educated etiquette don is ready for fun
regulating everyone, get ready to run
dedication, weather the storm, now we perform
explanation, no time for ’em, pay me or mourn
swing foreigns, changing the lane, feeling the breeze
popped up, loving the game, blowing my trees

[verse 11: lil head]
i let the top down on 20 inches, amg’s
with yella’s mixed with j-panese, they hair blow in the breeze
b-tch please, you mean to tell me you ain’t impressed?
candy orange sts, t.v.’s in the head rest
go on, confess, you love the way i’m customized
paint so wet when you look, you have to squint your eyes
you look surprised, how i swung and barely missed him
83’s recline bumper, with the northstar system
hard top out the shop, time to break off a fake
four 12 j-l, tryna make the trunk shake
it’s no mistake, it’s lil head, and you already know
surround from mobile 1, i raise my trunk up and show it

- s l a b lyrics

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