S.L.A.B. (Slow Loud and Bangin')
Plex
(feat. Rick D., Trae, Mike D., Boss Hogg, W.G., Lil' B)
[talking]
Hey what's happening, this Rick D baby
You ain't think we was gon let you motherfuckers rest huh
It's time to wake up baby, the assholes is here
[Hook x2]
I heard some niggaz in the rap game, hollin' out plex
Speaking on my name, like they ass won't get wrecked
Letting they nuts hang, cause I've been gone for a sec
Bitch nigga ass on, I'm about to bring plex
[Trae]
It's war, so I'm bout to get to spitting on bitches
I'll leave the weapon on the flo', so I'm shitting on bitches
I heard some niggaz wasn't able, to keep they tongue in they mouth
So I'm bout to put 'em in a lock, and drag they ass through the South
T-Ray and all them kids, who be thinking they rich
Here go your second of the fame, but either way you a bitch
You got a problem and you know it, ain't no stopping me dog
That go for each and every one of y'all, who knocking me dog
Better check my stats ol' nigga, I could end your career
I'm ready for drama with your click, in any time of the year
All the way to 50 Cent and Banks, I ain't born today
Better check yourself, everytime you speak a Asshole's name
And if the click side with ya, it don't really matter
I got a hundred and fifty assholes, that's killing the chatter
I promise we rawer, a hundred percent than most of these rappers
And please don't try me cause I'm bound to make your bitch ass a factor
[Hook x2]
[Mike D]
It's war, niggaz better get they mind right
'Fore I aim my highlight, and fuck off ya eyesight
It's war, niggaz better know the funk coming
'Fore I run up in your house, and duct tape your woman
64 slugs, dead in your car
Blucka-boo-blucka, recognize who we are
We ghetto superstars
And y'all motherfuckers, done took it too far
Recognize G's when we in your face, put it down like it go
Ahead of the footrace, Corleone on the mash hoe
[Boss]
I'll take over your turf, and place real G's on it
Got a hot nine for sale, but don't nobody want it
I put three bodies on it, when I was tipping and flossing
Had to take another six month break, from filling up coffins
It's often that niggaz get lost, for dipping in my sauce
You gotta pay the cost to the Boss, with the Nina Ross
Plex is when you fucking with Trae, and the S.K
You got AK's and HK's, in your face all day
Bitch, war's with big niggaz when the streets got plex wit ya
Can't let a certain type of nigga, try to get next to ya
I put this sticking to ya, so nigga better gaurd they ribs
Or I'm quick to pull a kickdo', so just gaurd your cribs
[W.G.]
All this beef that you talking, you can squash the drama
A.B.N. done pulled up, it's time to start the trauma
Why these niggaz running to they cars, to get they guns
Red beam and teflons, aiming at they lungs
Everybody ready for beef, until the war pop off
We ain't pl
[talking]
Hey what's happening, this Rick D baby
You ain't think we was gon let you motherfuckers rest huh
It's time to wake up baby, the assholes is here
[Hook x2]
I heard some niggaz in the rap game, hollin' out plex
Speaking on my name, like they ass won't get wrecked
Letting they nuts hang, cause I've been gone for a sec
Bitch nigga ass on, I'm about to bring plex
[Trae]
It's war, so I'm bout to get to spitting on bitches
I'll leave the weapon on the flo', so I'm shitting on bitches
I heard some niggaz wasn't able, to keep they tongue in they mouth
So I'm bout to put 'em in a lock, and drag they ass through the South
T-Ray and all them kids, who be thinking they rich
Here go your second of the fame, but either way you a bitch
You got a problem and you know it, ain't no stopping me dog
That go for each and every one of y'all, who knocking me dog
Better check my stats ol' nigga, I could end your career
I'm ready for drama with your click, in any time of the year
All the way to 50 Cent and Banks, I ain't born today
Better check yourself, everytime you speak a Asshole's name
And if the click side with ya, it don't really matter
I got a hundred and fifty assholes, that's killing the chatter
I promise we rawer, a hundred percent than most of these rappers
And please don't try me cause I'm bound to make your bitch ass a factor
[Hook x2]
[Mike D]
It's war, niggaz better get they mind right
'Fore I aim my highlight, and fuck off ya eyesight
It's war, niggaz better know the funk coming
'Fore I run up in your house, and duct tape your woman
64 slugs, dead in your car
Blucka-boo-blucka, recognize who we are
We ghetto superstars
And y'all motherfuckers, done took it too far
Recognize G's when we in your face, put it down like it go
Ahead of the footrace, Corleone on the mash hoe
[Boss]
I'll take over your turf, and place real G's on it
Got a hot nine for sale, but don't nobody want it
I put three bodies on it, when I was tipping and flossing
Had to take another six month break, from filling up coffins
It's often that niggaz get lost, for dipping in my sauce
You gotta pay the cost to the Boss, with the Nina Ross
Plex is when you fucking with Trae, and the S.K
You got AK's and HK's, in your face all day
Bitch, war's with big niggaz when the streets got plex wit ya
Can't let a certain type of nigga, try to get next to ya
I put this sticking to ya, so nigga better gaurd they ribs
Or I'm quick to pull a kickdo', so just gaurd your cribs
[W.G.]
All this beef that you talking, you can squash the drama
A.B.N. done pulled up, it's time to start the trauma
Why these niggaz running to they cars, to get they guns
Red beam and teflons, aiming at they lungs
Everybody ready for beef, until the war pop off
We ain't pl