[talking:] Yeah, Young Black in the mo'fucking building nigga Boss Hogg Outlawz what it is, this one here for all my slab riders Pull your drop out, show these boys how we hold down South Know I'm saying H-Town what it do, swanging and swerving and shit ay
[Young Black:] I got the cockpit smoked out, 84's poked out Young Black leaning, with the Gucci shades loc'd out Drop top vogues, on European grill Swing right break em at the light, recline my fifth wheel It's falling like Alicia Keys, pick it up like pieces On old school Chevrolets, Impalas and Caprices I can't forget the Lacs, with the wood leather steering wheel Candy paint frame, dripping stains off Sedan Devilles I'm in my candy world, riding in my candy girl Holla at J-Woo, let him hit me with a candy pearl Tipping on them thangs, with the buckles on the trunk Pumping old school E.S.G., Ocean of Funk I'm swanging and banging, breaking off the intersection Crossing, showing the whole world how we flossing Yeah, ery'body claim they slab is the best Pull up beside me put your slab to the test, if nothing less
[Hook: x2] I'm fresh (so fresh), in my slab so clean Smell like a pound, of that mean joe green Gorillas in the trunk, beating out your ass Candy paint frame, swang down on glass
[Young Black:] Stay flyer, than a mo'fucker On that dro, I stay higher than a mo'fucker In my slab crooked, on cloud nine Till my frame touch down, on that I-4-5 Like a G I ride, one hand on my wood Top down getting brain, like a real nigga should As I flip through the hood, I let the boppers see my fo's twist Lift up the do's on them hoes, leave em so sick No shit, I'm cleaner than the White House Beat down your block like thunder, and cut your lights off I'm iced out, from my wrist to my mouth To show these boys how we hold down South, I'm tal'n bout From the grill to the ring, the the piece to the chain The crib to the car, the wheels to the paint Yeah, ery'body claim they slab is the best Pull up beside me put your slab to the test, if nothing less
[Hook x2]
[Young Black:] I do it, for the whole hood Cause coming down on that candy, be feeling so good I got my pistol, tucked up under my seat Cause real G's don't ride 3's, unless they holding the heat And Reggie rolling the sweet, we tipping swangs through the city Diamonds shining and tops reclining, candy paint looking pretty That's how we do in the South, I know you boys can't understand How I chop the block the bops come out the spot, and wave they hand I'm the man with the killer paint, the man with the killer flow The man with this killer jump, Cadillac on them 84's You mad but keep hating though, you making my shine brighter The homies still downloading, my shit off of Limewire With glass and them vogue tires, I'm coasting the Interstate Don't frown and just smiling, bout all this paper I'm finna make Yeah, ery'body claim they slab is the best Pull up beside me put your slab to the test, if nothing less
[Hook x2]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
