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[talking:] What's the deal, this some'ing you know I'm saying On the laid back note, ain't always gotta be wired up Sit back parlay and feel it, you know I'm saying We still putting it in they face, and if you don't know S.L.A.B., Slow Loud And Bangin Forever gon show up, but ay I want you to peep this [Lil' B:] Me and Trae popped up, hot sunny day we cocked up Grip the wood screens fall, drop the top sliding on the buck Fifth relax trunk cracked, mind only on paper stacks Swang 4's on a candy Lac, chrome for haters who wanna jack Watch my back in the turning lane, swang and bang with a piece and chain Diamond cuts princess cut, don't trust a slut seven inch screens rain Crawl slow trunk glow, me and Trae bout to wreck a show Can't forgot about Dougie D, Jay'Ton and Lil' T Lil' B is who I am, sitting sideways don't give a damn Beans and rice candy yams, you might see me on the front of Slam Magazine diamonds gleam, 32 inch bezeltyne Plenty of starch up in my jeans, running through hoes like Natron Means On the field with the ball, knocking pictures off your wall Don't need the dope in my drawas, riding legit fuck the laws Inspection sticker license plates, twenty-two coats candy sprayed Hit the club valet, playa made with a bald fade 'Sacci shades up on my face, nice crunk thighs with a itty-bitty waist SongtexteSugar brown pop surround, bump and grind when I make my rounds Press rewind when I'm in the deck, candy coated private jet Only like my pussy wet, legs up when I'm having sex [Hook: x2] Southside, is where we gon swang Pulling up thoed, when I'm rolling Crawling up the block, doing my thang TV screens, steady showing [Trae:] I'm lane to lane when I wreck the block, pull out slow so the boppers bop Got ten thee in the stash spot, finna put mo' shit up in my drop tops We bubble eyed lighting up the night, with Doug on the fo' mixed up with Sprite Spitting out flows that's out of sight, with Rock on the track we breaking mics Better turn your head we living reckless, know y'all know don't fuck with Texas Why these fake niggaz wanna test us, nigga like me ain't barring plexes I'm thinking slow but I'm moving fast, no hub caps I'm riding glass Me and my boo into Hiram-Clarke, with a yellow bitch that got a lot of ass Pardon me no disrespect, say baby girl wanna hit the X In a late night on a freaky tip, hop in the car let's go on dip Moving on in mash mode, all about making my cash flow Hating on me ain't the thing to do, M double A-B might act a fool I'm getting down like James Brown, far far back when I'm on recline In my click I'ma lead the line, so a nigga like me ain't hard to find With frog eyes on a Cadillac, I know y'all niggaz be feeling that On the grind for the paper stack, got a red beam for the next to jack Ain't no knocking we riding clean, got a nigga named Screw nicknamed the King Without a doubt he made the South, everybody else better close they mouth I ride for that I love Screw-U, mayn that's a fact And don't none of y'all ever forget that, talking down might get you slapped nigga [Hook x4] Southside, crawling [x2] Aus Songtexte Mania