Текст песни When We Pull Out - Trae Tha Truth, Lil B, Ab

When We Pull Out

This E-Money, coming at you live and direct
Finna take you on a trip through the Southside
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
Yes, it’s I
The D-O-U-G-I-E from the South-a-side
I’m representing it real, 'til the day I die
Forever constantly, Dougie be getting high to ease my mind
As I crawl down, still knocking and beating blocks
Well I suppose, I should prolly keep Glocks cocked
'Cause these boys hating, nevertheless I’m still skating
Looking good when I do, 'cause I ain’t got time for the faking
Ain’t no carbon copies, never gon' be another like me
One in original, hundred percent Dougie for life
And 'cause we Slow Loud And Bangin'
Bitch, that mean that we gon' hold it down, up on our grind
Still Slow Loud, and representing my clique
With a gunshot, for niggas riding my dick
If I step out, my dropper you better skate
'Fore I pull out, my heat and I start to spray
I’m a natural type of playa, on gators and bending corners
Like niggas in California, my top’ll be dropping on ya
My paint wetter than weather, that’s rainy leaving a storm
My trunk causing a catastrophe, like Vietnam
We slap shots, dope in the stash spot on switches
Like hop scotch, with niggas that pop lock
In a blue or the red drop, with a iced out mouth piece
A gangsta high baller, for the 21st Century
With genocide nola, fifty thousand we over
From whipping our baking soda, from Texas to Pensacola
Roll a 4 and I’ma stop it and drop it, body rock it and cock it
Red dot it and lock it, hit the stage and I rock it
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
It’s Jay’Ton
Steady flipping and flossing with the Mo City Don
Steady pimping these bitches, like I’m Don Juan
When I be stepping out, I’m rocking Sean John, Sean John
'Cause I’m playa baby, 16 flipping Mercedes
With a yellow lady, when I’m tipping it through the Cady
Bubble eyes on, when I’m living it in my zone
22's surrounded by chrome, in front of my home
Four door garage, I got a set of twins that’s ready for the ménage
But if you ask me, they look like Mary J. Blige
If I ruled the world, I’m feeling like I was Nas, feeling like I was Nas
Swing hard, on the 'Vard dog
It’s Big B double E, I was born hog
I cause traffic when I ride in my orange car
I’m looking for some attention, I’m a superstar
Straight out of Hiram-Clarke, on the Southside
We roll on 84's, and we swing wide
Blowing on hydro, with the paint po’d
I’m sitting on buck skin, in my playa mode
Huh, Slow Loud, Bangin' in the deck
Everybody think I’m tripping, and I’m gone off that wet
But I check ya ass like my brand new sneaks
And put a dot on your eye, if your mouth ever leak
Now take a peak, at the big Boss 3−2
Every time you see me, I’m sporting something brand new
What it do? What it done? Bitch, you know where I’m from
I keep a big old pistol for them niggas talking dumb
Candy red we flossing, we po’d up
Southside, how you feel? We ain’t riding on horses down here
Nothing but Lac’s and trucks, and purple stuff on buck
Swinging left-right, slow up your block
On chops, won’t stop, won’t quit
South Klique on bumper kits, with screens on lit
With the boppers and shoppers
That be bopping a nigga drop
On glass choppers be chopping
While they looking like helicopters
Won’t stop, rolling on chops
It’s K all day nigga, the cream of the crop
It never end, a youngin' with a smile on his ends
And dividend, Sprewells keep spin in the wind
Now here I go, I crawl down low on 84's
Draped down in Gucci clothes, and macking to all these hoes
With the killer piece and chain, banging Slow Loud And Bang
As I grip up on the grain, headed to South mayn
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
Pulling out, nigga you know we throwed
In a heavy wide frame, with J-Dog and the Ro
On the Southside, you know we gotta hold
Piece and chain gon' swing, with a mouth full of gold
We swing left, right, knowing I don’t play
If the jackers try to come, AK gon' spray
Fewquay is where I swing, the lane and swing 4's
Niggas be tripping, I’m sipping and hitting fly hoes
Chickens in kitchens we mixing, and flipping my dough
Expedition and wishing for competition, on my flow
Who the nigga that be By-Bo? Lil B gotta crawl down
See, breaking mics when I’m on the cypher, S.L.A.B
Wrecking the block with the trunk open, the bumper cocked
Let my shit knock, I got my hand on my Glock
While the haters watch, I see these bitches on my jock
I got my mug on mean, as I pass I can’t stop
Steady beating blocks, I gotta let the top drop
It’s just that nigga Pimp Skinny, representing and never stop
I leave these haters knocked, but them 4's can’t stop nothing
But believe I’m gangsta strutting, and ain’t gotta touch nothing
Just pushing buttons, on the face of my remote
As I ride cough and choke, 'cause I’m gone off that killa smoke
But on my note, so you haters watch your back
Best believe I got that gat, and I’ll rat-ta-tat-tat
When I pull out, corner bend a trendsetter
With my top down, baby Benz Gucci leather
On chrome feet, and I’m ready for whatever
With the chrome heat, you gotta have your shit together
Just to compete, cutting concrete spinning
While the trunk beat, everywhere I go hoes grinning
Like they want me, now I’m independent if they hear me
Then I won’t be, collab with the S.L.A.B. hit the lab get funky
We strapped with weapons and guns, ready to stun
Pack a competitive tongue, second to none
Educated etiquette Don is ready for fun
Regulating everyone, get ready to run
Dedication, weather the storm, now we perform
Explanation, no time for 'em, pay me or mourn
Swing foreigns, changing the lane, feeling the breeze
Popped up, loving the game, blowing my trees
I let the top down on 20 inches, AMG’s
With yella’s mixed with Japanese, they hair blow in the breeze
Bitch please, you mean to tell me you ain’t impressed?
Candy orange STS, T.V.'s in the head rest
Go on, confess, you love the way I’m customized
Paint so wet when you look, you have to squint your eyes
You look surprised, how I swung and barely missed him
83's recline bumper, with the Northstar system
Hard top out the shop, time to break off a fake
Four 12 J-L, tryna make the trunk shake
It’s no mistake, it’s Lil Head, and you already know
Surround from Mobile 1, I raise my trunk up and show it
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right
When we pull out
You know we looking throwed, still Slow Loud
And Bangin' I suppose, on the Southside
You know we gotta hold, swing left, right, left, right