Текст песни S.L.A.B. f C-Loc, W.G - We Been Fly
S.L.A.B. f C-Loc, W.G - We Been Fly слова песни
(*talking*)S.L.A.B., Slow Loud And Bangin` know I`m sayingWe been on this fly shit, yeah we keep it gangstaYou know we been dropping tops, pulling out 4`sSpinning on boys, straight out Ike or JetSince Pat and Screw was around[Trae]What`s cracking lately my nigga, must ain`t heard of the newsThe way I dropped a `60 Cheve, plus he grew in his shoesI guess I`m fly, cause these boppers steady calling my phoneBut I don`t really wanna be bothered, when I`m tipping my chromeAnd I don`t really wanna be bothered, bitch I`m feeling my zoneSlow motion banging my song, four 15`s to the domeYeah, I think you kinda feel the point that I`m stressingLike a jacker that`s running up, gon feel the black Smith-N-WessonOff with top shocks on the drop, these jocks on cockClearing out the block, hearts gon stop when I set up the shopPopping off with them thangs, still the same but changing my lanesAnd as soon as my attitude change, I`m change up your frameThe name Trae bitch get it right, `fore the Maab get to clickingLike a TV in `86, back when the color was missingSo if you hating fuck you, `fore a nigga buck youTo tell the truth I give a fuck, bout what you going through[C-Loc]Now pure playa when I pass, play the game with precisionSo fly when I ride, girl go on take a pictureGot a swag so serious, you`ll mistake it for a danceGot a strap so swoll, knock `em clean out they pantsThese hoes love Loc, they know Loc a real manBaby mama want me back, but that hoe had a chanceWent from selling blocks of crack, to selling verses for grandsReal recognize real, that`s why Trae is my manLook Big Loc forever fly, till I`m resting in peaceI`m so cold that my blood temp, about zero degreesI`m so fly like Outkast, so fresh and so cleanMake the game look so easy, but I`m just doing my thing[W.G.]I`m so fly, hopping out of my car with the rims spinningDubs up, looking like I just won a millionI ain`t tripping, it took a little time but me and my team cashing checksHopping out of planes, at L.A.XHouston Tex what I rep, when I hit the WestGot a big ass Dub, hanging off my chestSeeing niggaz cuffing they chicks, run up bitchAnd see how long it take my niggaz, to blitz[Boss]I`m fly, but niggaz still will get beat upEvery 24/7, got my motherfucking heaterNever leaving the house, without my pistol grip what I`m fin`s to gripThey tell me to calm down, but Lil` Boss Hogg is fin`s to tripI advise you niggaz, to catch hold of your brainCause 17 hollow points, might shower down like rainOff the chain, fresh off the dock tipping a yachtI bang like 5 Deuce Scott, tipping a dropBucking at cops I`m over the law, I`m over your jawCouped up in the kitchen, and I`m working with rawAin`t too many niggaz, that can G like meI keep about 16, B.G.`s with heat