Lyrics of 'Bumpin Up Da Block' by S.L.A.B. (Slow Loud And Bangin)

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(feat. Lil B, Trae, Jay Ton, Pimp Skinny, T2, Kiotti, and)

[Hook x2]
I'm still swanging in a drop
Slow Loud-Slow Loud, Bangin' up the block
Either way it go, I know I can't stop
Cause I gotta let em know, where I come from (H-Town)

[Lil B]
Representer from Hiram-Clarke, your body outlined in chalk
Cause a nigga will get to tussling and rushing, like Marshall Faulk
You haters don't wanna see a nigga, grind for a minute
Recline for a minute, that's why I'm finna shine for a minute
We rhyme for a minute, but I'm still Lil B from the block
Swanging my do's wide open, making you niggaz mouth drop
Tops drop on cops, but bops we wreck shop
S.L.A.B. wrecking your spot, boy this here won't stop
We some certified wreckers, on the track we molesters
Got the cheese like Chester, boys bet not test us
We gon glide like Clyde, North-East-West and Southside
It really don't matter, represent it with pride

[Trae]
Well it's the wood grain grabber, fo' do' glass skater
Tinted up like Darth Vader, when I slide pass haters
The only way you know is Trae, is when I'm stepping out gators
On 22's candy blue, and on a mission for paper
And I'm a cock-glock popper, and a Slow Loud rocker
Bitch-made nigga knocker, and a bop type stopper
With B and Jay at the spot, with them dots on stock
Looking like a helicopter, when I crawl down blocks
While my chrome be spinning, iced out when I'm grinning
I know I need to stop sinning, when I'm fucking with women
Cause I'm a G by nature, I get the game from my brother
I'm on the Belt burning rubber, born and raised in the gutter

[Jay'Ton]
I'm still swanging up in a drop, and steady running from cops
With golds across the top of my mouth, swanging the lot
While looking for yellow bops, you know it don't never stop
With trunks waving the block, with Reese and Lil' Pop
We some Down South playas, and flipping in Navigators
For niggaz that's talking down, we pop the trunk on the haters
I'm steady pumping for paper, from Houston on to the Caders
The only thing that I know, is to drop and slide on them skaters

[Hook x2]

[Pimp Skinny]
Steady acting bad, moving fast as I dash
It's this nigga named Pimp Skinny, stay up on the mash
Bleeding for the cash, with the drop and then I dash
All you bitch ass niggaz, gon feel for that
Gun clapper ass slapper, close the chapter
S.L.A.B. nigga ass waxer, underground punch will never be a factor
For the real track master, doing it like a G
Cause I'm a wicked flow master

[T-2]
I'm flipping with the S.L.A.B., give your boy dap
You say you my partna hicka-hicka damn, quit making me laugh
Cause you making me, stop my car
You'll be laying six feet, in a do' in the hearse
I'm putting in work, playboy I'm writing my own rhymes
Doing my shows in different places, buy my own shine
Chill and recline, got my life made
My platinum in my mouth, like it was cleaned with Cascade
Could it be, the ice in my mouth
I'm still-I'm still, T-2 from the block
Use to have a little, but I have a lot
Southside of H-Town, is where I came from (yes sir)

[Hook x2]

[Kiotti]
Don't be fooled, by the rocks that I got
I'm still-I'm still, Kiotti with a glock
See me in a drop, pulling on your block
And I ride Sprewell, cause I guess I got tired of chops
In my throwback
Maybe brick 4 red Mustang, that's a jet car
You know me, young Kiotti
Baya-bay and I hang on the block, like clouds on gray days
When I pull through, it's like whoa
Niggaz see me coming, rims stop then go
Man I got a whole, lot of cash to blow
I mash hard, with them S.L.A.B. niggaz swanging down your 'Vard

[Maurice]
Crawling through the scene, Benz lime freaky green
Too big to be a machine, falling screens submarine
Swanging from coast to coast, I never brag never boast
On a Rolls Royce man, I'm eating scrambled eggs and toast
Hard top Testarosta, when I slide down 'Boule's
Double header watch me swinging my blades, chop like swarms
I'm wrecking mics for rewards, I'm cracking dats in the cars
84's or vogues, I do the do like more

[Hook x2]

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