We Swang 4's - Trae Tha Truth, JL, Jay'ton

Still representing trying to hold it down, you know I’m saying

(we ain’t tripping, fuck what you heard), on the cool you know I’m saying

A lot of niggas out there hating, getting this shit twisted nigga

(love you boy), I’ma ride for life

Screw-U I’m only ten, but it feel like I’m bigger

Repped the whole Southside, you was everybody nigga

That’s a fact, I’ma call it how I see it

Them other niggas cheated, but you can’t be defeated

It’s the J-Dub, showing love from the heart

You built some’ing, that them niggas can’t take apart

Screwed up the whole neighborhood, even Houston

Even us kids, representing for the Screwston

Even to this day, it ain’t a damn thang changed

I’m still riding for the cause, I gotta make it through the pain

Remember us, we was liver than most of these niggas on the street

And I ain’t lying, when I found out that you flied I couldn’t take it inside

You was blue on Impalas, and turning heads on the 'vard

And being real on these streets, and keeping these fake niggas scarred

Was Shorty Mac and Al-D, this your lil' nigga Trae

Blue over grey top down, lighting up the freeway

Catch us crawling down the Boulevard, sitting on 4's

Hollin' at the bitches, and we getting at the hoes

You know we thoed, blowing smoke out our nose

We show up and po' up, that’s the way the game goes

We doing our thang, with a fist full of grain

Pop the trunk on these punks, let these niggas see the bang

Switching lane to lane, jamming Screw fa sho

Rest in peace to my nigga, while we blowing the dro what

S.L.A.B., coming through

We got some, brand new shit for you

I really, miss my nigga Screw

That’s why, we steady paying dues

Nothing but that Southside shit, and we still missing Screw

Chopped up and banging, niggas hollin' what it do

This for you, represent it and come through

Capers ripping never tripping, niggas always keep it true

Riding blue, can’t forget the grey side pieces

Cause you never could be defeated, though them hate niggas cheated

Got to beat it, from sun up to sun down

And this is how it go down, Screwed Up and slowed down

S.L.A.B.

soldiers mashing on, can a nigga feel a G

R.I.P.

to the Screw, you didn’t even know me

But you get much respect, I keep your tape in my deck

From Y2-Grey to Independent, stay to Who’s Next To Plex

Either tape won’t eject, it was a Southside classic

Boys done got wrecked, crawling through the school traffic

Niggas be laughing, at them fake ass scrubs

Candy painted by that Jack, cause I knew you loved blue

Paying dues nigga, I refuse to lose

SUV’s on 22's, staying strapped like shoes

I’m a young nigga, putting it all on the line

You better give me fifty feet, cause ain’t no stopping my shine

I gotta get it nigga, I can’t settle for less

Remember seeing DJ Screw, up in a blue SS

Chop the scene bending corners, better believe that you missed

Slow Loud And Bangin, got these niggas feeling this

It started at Broadway, from the Mo to the West

And Lord knows, me and DJ Screw use to do this

Bounce-bounce, and body rock to this

Down South Screwed Up Click, is the motherfucking shit

Pee Wee ain’t tripping, just grain gripping and tipping

He’s in my mind hold it down, going hard with this pimping

Block bleeding, pray to the Lord got me shown

I had it hard but it’s on, god damn why he gone

Where would I be, without Screw

(where would I be, without Screw)

Where would I be, without Screw

(wheeere, would I be)

I’m a S.L.A.B.

soldier, mashing on for the Screw

If they talking down, I’m yelling out what it do

Six cars deep, candy red or the blue

Grey cassette, my tape stamped by you

Can’t no other take your place, cause you’s the best

Screwed Up Records & Tapes, so fuck the rest

You a true Southsider, 6−10 glider

Off the chain, we gonna miss you mayn

Hop out the fo' do', with a mouth piece to glow

Bitch niggas be hating us, why I keep a 4−4

Chips only wash up, screens to Acapulco

Lord knows, that we miss you Screw

And it’s me the T, and we gon still love you

Coming through in the blue, on blades and dots

Chopping blocks, trunk pops and sailing the South

And to you bitch niggas, keep my name out your mouth

Screw opened the do' for a lot of cats, we gon chop it up we gon bring it back

South Klique that is a fact, S.U.C.

with my trunk cracked

Bound to kill with Shorty Mac, a verbal attack when I earn my plack

My mouth piece like selling crack, chop say with panamax

I miss that boy so I blaze a bag, in the turning lane I’m sitting fat

Screwed up the way you did that, D.E.A.

we got your back

It’s the Jay’Ton, little brother of the Trae

We kicked it a few times, and met on the Beltway

You was a real nigga, and I looked up to that

Screwed up on every track, I wish I could bring you back

The real gon peep real, and real gon peep fake

Screwed Up Records & Tapes, that’s all I gotta say

R.I.P.

Screw-U, you know we gon hold it down

Slow Loud And Bangin, all over H-Town