What You Niggas Know - Trae Tha Truth

This Sil from the West, mayn

Just doing a bunch of chilling, gon keep in playa mode

What you niggas know, about pulling out slow

Missing the top, riding glass 84's

What you niggas know, about a playa like me

Better cuff your hoe, cause I’m a P-I-M-P

What you niggas know, about a hater that’ll hate

Knocking my fame, we moving units like weight

What you niggas know, about Glocks and AK’s

When it’s time for the plex, they cock and they spray

What you niggas know about a hot shot, tossing a drop top

Flipping with hot Glocks, when he tipping a hot block

A playa slash a Guerilla, that’s mobbing for scrilla

They fake and I’m realer, and plus these niggas be sweeter than vanilla

I think they hate me, cause I’m Slow Loud And Bangin'

They really better keep they distance, before they see Trae get to swanging

And I can recall, riding an Impala, '78 to be exact

With no AC radio, and the tires on flat

But that was the past, and now you see me in a slab on glass

My drop’s first class, and now these hoes be giving up they ass

To tell the truth, I really don’t need em they just something to do

I’d rather be crawling late night, while I’m thinking bout Screw

Now tell me what you know about, swanging lanes on 4's

Stay in my pimp mode, cause I don’t love none of these hoes

I throw em back like throwbacks, and hit em for a G

Got niggas cuffing they broads, so they won’t fuck with Lil B

Still I crawl up the road, so slow knowing they hate

Thinking I’m fake just wait, I’ma let this AK spray

But I be stuck on my hustle, my pockets must gain a muzzle

I had a couple of tussles, that’s why a nigga will rush you

I don’t love you or your gal, I’m too in love with my slab

And the way a nigga be throwing these hands, steady giving you jabs

You crabs that’s biting, like an infested STD

I can flaunt it if I want it, repping S-L-A-B

What you niggas know, about a teenage Southsider

With fifth wheels and grills, T.V.'s on the outside

Of my car in my side view, peeping the haters

I’m something like a superstar, when I pull out that Navigator

1 to the 7, and now you niggas know my age

And if you disrespect a G, then you fin to know my gauge

I got game like a motherfucker, or baby Don Juan

And if you boppers wanna see me, go to Jay’Ton.com

Talking down beneath your arm, I ain’t playing with you cats

I done came from being broke, and I don’t plan on going back

So I mash full speed, for my cash to get paid

I use to want ice, now I’m on a ice-capade

Can I have everyone’s attention, front and center listen to reason

This is my reason for what repping, and tipping through seasons

Sliding down with a bad breezie, sipping smoking and leaning

When I stop at the light, other people be watching my T.V.'s

Lil' kids they wanna be me, or have a daddy just like me

I’m the Don-Datta, Dougie but fuck it just call me papi

What you niggas know, about riding on chrome

And dropping the drop on the belly, high-siding on hoes

In the cockpit, I keep a cocked pistol for cock suckers

Mashing on all haters, and utilizing my hustles

You think you know, but you really have no idea

Dougie D 2000 and 3, it’s your boy right here

(*talking*)

Yeah, we keep in playa mode baby

S.L.A.B., Slow Loud And Bangin'

Trae, Dougie D, Lil B, Jay’Ton you know it go down

What you niggas know, about being real

What you niggas know, about keeping it gangsta

What you niggas know, about keeping it street

Fa real, follow us we’ll show you the way, straight up