Song parody of
[Untitled Track]
by S.L.A.B.
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Trae]
It's game time, everybody better go play they position
Because the captain of the team, about to make his decision
For those who never heard of Trae, I bet you will in a second
I'm bout to take over the game, with a black mask and a Smith-N-Wesson
Raw dog, 24's be tipping and cutting
The top lost, raise up the trunk and proceed with the strutting
I'm lyrically busting, like 4-4's dumping on chumps
And when it be best to move around, 'fore I click on you punks
I'm like a running back, rushing with a hell of a slab
So many woofers in the trunk, it's like a hell of a jab
I'm running the game, you other cats ain't running a thang
Unless you running from a G, that just got off of the chain
[Hook - 2x]
Who next to plex, I told ya I be ready for war
17 in the clip, when I hop out the car
I'm busting for mine they hating, so I'm guarding the lane
I bet these motherfuckers, know my name (it ain't changed)
[Jay'Ton]
It's like man, I promise you niggaz don't understand
How I suicided do's, on the drop and painted it tan
Back in the days, I use to be wishing that I was paid
Now them 32 karats of diamonds, giving 'em rays
So gangsta, give me fifty feet mayn
'Fore you see me letting 17, out the heat mayn
It's like that, 22 inches be sitting flat
On the Lac, you think I only make money from rap
Hell naw, I'm known to bleed blocks for change
Plus I'm known to get fly, when I'm whipping the wood grain
It's Jay'Ton, the young one serving niggaz heat
One hell of a hitter-quitter, that'll put you to sleep
[Boss]
Boss on a mission, making boys take out they laces
Put niggaz necks in braces, and dodging the cases
Bandanas on the wrong side, make niggaz wanna hide
Since they locked my nigga Ro up, I been ready to ride
Right hooks to the face, will get you ready to slide
Drop the frame of the Lac, and then I'm ready to glide
Six shots from the K, will make you flip your whip
I'm bout my chips as I dip, on a solo tip
It's still Slow Loud And Bangin', on a bitch nigga'z ass
A buck-six on the dash, showing ass on glass
Hit niggaz up, making niggaz tuck they nuts
Hit a couple of hard heads, that go hard on cuts
[Hook - 2x]
[Trae]
Who next to plex, I told ya I'm ready for the drama
Slow Loud And Bangin' is the shit, and I put that on my mama
I'm in a '67 Cheve, on the dub of the South
And about to spit the realest shit, that ever came out my mouth
Me and Q, the heavyweight tag team of the year
And they don't wanna fuck with us, half of them niggaz is queers
And I don't pay you no mind, so I could be doing my thang
Like in the turning lane, dropping in the drop wide frame
My diamonds all against the grain, when I'm gliding the whip
The other hand on the clip, in case them haters wanna trip
So I'm fully equipped, to let 'em know who I be
It's South Klique, when I be repping S-L-A-B
Trae]
It's game time, everybody better go play they position
Because the captain of the team, about to make his decision
For those who never heard of Trae, I bet you will in a second
I'm bout to take over the game, with a black mask and a Smith-N-Wesson
Raw dog, 24's be tipping and cutting
The top lost, raise up the trunk and proceed with the strutting
I'm lyrically busting, like 4-4's dumping on chumps
And when it be best to move around, 'fore I click on you punks
I'm like a running back, rushing with a hell of a slab
So many woofers in the trunk, it's like a hell of a jab
I'm running the game, you other cats ain't running a thang
Unless you running from a G, that just got off of the chain
[Hook - 2x]
Who next to plex, I told ya I be ready for war
17 in the clip, when I hop out the car
I'm busting for mine they hating, so I'm guarding the lane
I bet these motherfuckers, know my name (it ain't changed)
[Jay'Ton]
It's like man, I promise you niggaz don't understand
How I suicided do's, on the drop and painted it tan
Back in the days, I use to be wishing that I was paid
Now them 32 karats of diamonds, giving 'em rays
So gangsta, give me fifty feet mayn
'Fore you see me letting 17, out the heat mayn
It's like that, 22 inches be sitting flat
On the Lac, you think I only make money from rap
Hell naw, I'm known to bleed blocks for change
Plus I'm known to get fly, when I'm whipping the wood grain
It's Jay'Ton, the young one serving niggaz heat
One hell of a hitter-quitter, that'll put you to sleep
[Boss]
Boss on a mission, making boys take out they laces
Put niggaz necks in braces, and dodging the cases
Bandanas on the wrong side, make niggaz wanna hide
Since they locked my nigga Ro up, I been ready to ride
Right hooks to the face, will get you ready to slide
Drop the frame of the Lac, and then I'm ready to glide
Six shots from the K, will make you flip your whip
I'm bout my chips as I dip, on a solo tip
It's still Slow Loud And Bangin', on a bitch nigga'z ass
A buck-six on the dash, showing ass on glass
Hit niggaz up, making niggaz tuck they nuts
Hit a couple of hard heads, that go hard on cuts
[Hook - 2x]
[Trae]
Who next to plex, I told ya I'm ready for the drama
Slow Loud And Bangin' is the shit, and I put that on my mama
I'm in a '67 Cheve, on the dub of the South
And about to spit the realest shit, that ever came out my mouth
Me and Q, the heavyweight tag team of the year
And they don't wanna fuck with us, half of them niggaz is queers
And I don't pay you no mind, so I could be doing my thang
Like in the turning lane, dropping in the drop wide frame
My diamonds all against the grain, when I'm gliding the whip
The other hand on the clip, in case them haters wanna trip
So I'm fully equipped, to let 'em know who I be
It's South Klique, when I be repping S-L-A-B
