Swang Remix (S.L.A.B.ed) - Trae Tha Truth

Love it mayne — love it mayne

Love it mayne — love it mayne

Love it mayne — love it mayne

Love it mayne — love it mayne

Yeah this the remix

Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

These bitches wanna see a nigga roll

Five — fifty flossin, leave the tag for the toe

Ice cold AC, butter scotch guts

Hard top Benz with the roof popped up

Every tooth rocked up, nigga swangin with the Glock nine

Sixty duece cocked up, bangin at the stop sign

And I’m a pass, not my nigga H.A.W.K dogg — I’m a miss

Everytime I think about him when I’m drivin, I’m a just (I'm a just)

I’m a Screwed Up Affliated, strictly rollin red

Everytime we hit the parking lot, we turn heads

I’ve been watched by parole — task forcin by the feds

Cause they know I got e’m for ten and they know the game ain’t dead

It’s too late I’m deep up in it, ain’t nothin about me scary

Chiefin in the club, tryna find me somethin hairy

Pimpin at the bar — smokin on a stoggy

Since I came home from the Pen seems like everybody knows me

Slim Thugga, motherfucker!

The trunk bang with the belts, while I swang to the left

Pop my trunk and yup, yup, yup

Chrome spokes when I step down the ave in the slab (huh)

Pull up to the wash, give the Cadillac a bath

My car lookin mirror, peanut butter interior

Poppin trunks, surround they can’t sound no clearer

They like damn, he here that boy Thugga shut e’m down

Them Blue Boys shinin’all over H — Town

I gotta shout my niggas in Houston (aye Trae — what up)

They ride old school, and they system in screwin (aye Bun B)

I’m from New York so in my city we cruisin (Eastside)

Them '06 whips with the glittery jewels — in (Mazarati's)

I don’t go in the club till I get all my goons in (not at all)

Them bouncers don’t frisk so we get all our tools in (keep the gats)

And yeah we cop the bottles, get the bitches to groovin (shake it ma)

And won’t you tell the DJ, it’s a Dipset intrusion

Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

I’m the king, I’m the mayor of the city — got the game locked down

I roll twelve cars, one with my top down

I be swangin in that candy, they don’t understand me

Got my slab complete, watch me pull up on this brandy

I’m swangin in this slab with the peanut butter guts

If she hop inside my ride then the bitch know she gon’fuck

I ain’t playin with no skeezer, the ho know I don’t need her

I pull out my Visa to tease her, not please her

They see the diamonds shinin — hand on the wood wheel

Even though I sold a mill, streets got me hood still

I still swang to the left, 84's sittin under Tha Truth

And these haters watchin my moves, from the way I butterflyed the Coupe

I’m black over alligator so niggas know that I got it

Trunk lift up at the light but my droppa remainin squated

Still bangin my Screw, doin my thing

See the sun been out on me, but they swear I been in the rain

My swangas poke out so wide like I’m ridin in double lanes

Texan wide wheels lookin like they never stoppin mayne — I’m a…

Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

Swang, Swang and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop — pop my trunk, and yup, yup, yup

I’m a swang, and I swang, and I swang to the left

Pop my trunk for Fat Pat’s death

I would give my last breath if I could bring you back

Bring Screw back, matter of fact bring the whole crew back

Only God can do that so I’m a leave it alone

Movin alone, groovin to this soothin song

I’m cruisin along, wishin Cory Blunt was home

Well I’m a swang, I’m a swang, I’m a swang to the right

I’m comin down candy on swangas — it’s super tight

When I pull up at the light, at a quarter to midnight

You pull up right — scared to death, gotta call in the life flight

UGK is back on the slab and turnin the wheel

Once again the Bun and the Pimp, the return of the trill

You can love to hate us, or hate to love us — it ain’t a thing

To them Underground Kingz, we still gon’swang

I put the H up in the air for that A dub K

That fifth wheel, bow down and pray I’m brandy wine over gray

I’m swangin with Trae, sprayed by my home boy Ed

That third coast custom paint job, got me lookin ready

That Swisha House around my neck — Johhny Dang on my wrist

Trunk bang like ABN with wood grain on my fist

Cadillac by David Taylor with retractable roof

Swangin and bangin on that Screw and throwin boys that duece, It’s Paul Wall…

Love it mayne — love it mayne

Love it mayne — love it mayne

Love it mayne — love it mayne

Love it mayne — love it mayne