letra de slab on blades - billy cook
[bun b:]
well, i’ma let my candy cadillac glide (glide)
from the north to the southwest, to the southside
blanging down the block, with that 8-0-8 kick
my spinning 24’s, making boys straight sick
i put it down daily, can’t n-body knock it
represent my zone, with them stones in my pocket
boys wanna hate, but it ain’t too much to say
ain’t no holding what i do, so holla back another day
eleven years straight, and cuz i’m still standing tall
with my hands on my nuts, my back against the wall
i’m deep off in these streets, my ear to the ground
i know what you thinking fool, but it ain’t going down
we young in this game baby, ain’t n-body jacking
we five cars deep, everybody pistol packing
tell em billy we ain’t tripping, we flipping through the hood
throwing up the deuce, and trying to show em some’ing good
[hook:]
billy cook and bun b, set it off in the club
congo and b.m.g., if you with us tear it up
see my ways is player made, my slab be rolling blades
my n-gg-z we lift the art, of many ways to get paid
billy cook and bun b, set it off in the club
congo and b.m.g., if you with us tear it up
see we do just what we feel, and we feel just what we do
b.m.g. 1965, texas plates gripping wood
[billy cook:]
i’m b.m.g. i write checks, i’m on both sides of the spectrum
rapping r&b superstar, barring none i eject em
a veteran, wreck off it when i pull up on the scene
fly as pigeon cool as cooler, then a fan naw’ i mean
pimped out 64’s, caddy on 24’s
billy cook/ bun b, and my n-gg- congo
i got a team of go-getters, stunners and head hunters
plenty of cash plenty of do’, plenty of dro and head busters
i might be sick with it, don’t get it twisted i’m no sucker
bullsh-t labels try to sign me, but they greedy as a motherf-cker
try to put billy cook up on us, except for game ain’t contained
trying to leave c.c. out, you b-tch n-gg-z is lame
i done told ya, n-gg-z be stressing me that’s for real
don’t be f-cking with my team, unless you want your caps peeled
i’m a beast with this r&b, and i reign supreme
down south who it be, billy cook i’m a g
[hook]
[congo:]
dipping through, in a fleetwood
and a hot boy, like i’m burning logs on a skeetwood
i set it off in this b-tch, like big t would
for your sake, your b-tch -ss better have a flee foot
i’m holding something, that can chop and sweep your hood
and peep your good, when your diamond line complete your wood
it’s diamonds up against the wood, when i creep the hood
i’m trying to find a fine dime, to top piece my wood
a head plumber down, to handle all my leaks for good
rich ain’t as christine, when i’m pimping in the parking lot
i’m blowing big green, with a cloud cause i spark a lot
so if you with it pimping, holla back it’s super tight
cause i’m smoking super weed, and sipping on a super sprite
it’s only right, that i set it off with billy c
double o-k, to catch me rolling man just picture me
man i can’t change the way i am, it’s just the pimp in me
it’s meant to be, that’s why my slab on blades n-gg-
[hook]
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