S.L.A.B. - Catch Me In Tha Lot lyrics

Published

0 160 0

S.L.A.B. - Catch Me In Tha Lot lyrics

(Lil B) You can catch a n***a roaming the lot hugging the glock, dogging the drop Creeping on some'ing, that's chrome and don't stop I'm a street n***a, a**ociated with thugs That's why my trunk popped up, g**ning like Crips and Bloods I crawl when I creep, looking for a dime piece That's down to get knocked down, like p**no freaks I'm just a ghetto superstar, that's trying to climb out the hood So if you haters thinking jack, I'll bust a round if you would Try to plot come on my block, my slugs will meet ya And greet ya, social security will have to delete ya Hating people, my Desert Eagle's giving haters no love Wanna find me, I'll be roaming the lot f** the club (Hook) You can catch me in the lot, trunk on pop f** a bottle with a bug, you can catch me with a glock Slow Loud and Bangin, still swanging in a drop Top down for the bops, but my rims don't stop (you can catch me in the lot, n***a f** the club Rather chill with my thugs, when I'm banging on dubs Some n***az hate, the other half show me love When a n***a mean mug, I'ma greet him with a slug) (Boss) You can catch me in the lot, with a big gat squashing all chit-chat Finding a parking spot, to the drop the Focus it'll sit flat These n***az don't, wanna upset Boss Hopping fly, might lead to a right hand cross One of the homies trailing behind, the blue Yukon Banging and hanging sets, with that blue Duke on He got a heater on him, he don't say much so I don't speak on him n***az act like they want our spinners, more than we want em But down in H-Town, we ain't scared of no jackers Rushing through the park, looking like a linebacker Leave the murder scene, on my gold and chrome adaptors We young block bleeders, gangstas paper stackers (Jay'Ton) Cruising the Boulevard, with the trunk on wave It's the Jay'Ton, so you know I don't play When I bo'gaurd the block, better get out my way If you f** up my slab, I'ma f** up your day So back-back, before my click get on your a** And we don't need a mask, for them n***az talking too fast In a blue tipping and turning, wrecking 'em while I'm swanging Call me an O.G., the way my trunk banging f** roaming the club, I'ma knock the top off And show you how we be stunting, in the Dirty Dirty South They mouth be wide open, stuck like they wet I bet, these n***az gon respect my set (Hook) (Trae) You better get out of dodge, my entourage coming quicker than flash That's your a**, Slow Loud And Bangin got you feeling like trash Never need to get in the club, we be crawling the lot Trunk popped top done dropped, on thirty some'ing dots Out the roof one hundred proof, on a mission for bops Yeah they try to get my attention, but the rims don't stop Entertaining up in my slab, got 'em riding my jock Throwback "Fondren & Main", got 'em doing the wop See the mind frame is fast, and the wide frame is slow My game is too fly, my mouthpiece is thoed Piece and chain, hitting about a hundred below So when it get hot I'm garunteed, to be pulling a hoe Whether in a silver bullet, or in a Excursion They need a anthem for the streets, and this is my version Slow Loud And Bangin is what I'm yelling, when I be swerving And I can show you what it do, when I hop on the curb and (Hook - 2x)