Slimed Out lyrics
by Drego & Beno
[Intro]
Are you in the mafia?
[Verse 1: Beno]
Walked in the club
Ten, twenty, thirty b*tches, dawg, and they thick as f*ck
Man, they so drunk, man, they f*ck as drunk
She whispered in my ear, told her turn her up, turn her up
Caught an opp in the car, burn it up, burn it up
Walkin' out the club, it's the end of the party and I'm throwin' up, throwin' up, uh
[Verse 2: Drego]
Catch your ass twistin' fingers, what you throwin' up? Uh
Catch your ass at the light, Glock throwin' up, throwin' up
I pass your b*tch a fishbowl, told her to front tuck
Free my n*gga Lonnie Bands, we was goin' up
Paid walked in, lemon cherry got us blowed as f*ck
Yeah, we all rollin' up, it's like a hundred blunts
b*tch, it's gon' take a half a year just to run it up
n*gga see me out, yeah, with Mone, you know he Chris Tuck
n*gga mistake me for Giannis, all about a buck
Yeah, b*tch, we came from broad days, we ain't give a f*ck
[Verse 3: Damjonboi]
Heard the opps in that b*tch, I'm still showin' up
Sprayed the whole gas station, tried to blow 'em up
Lights hittin' off the ice, b*tches know it's us
Damjonboi in this b*tch, now it's goin' up
Bumped into my lil' blooda on the 8
Poured up in unc' house, blew a 'Wood and got a plate
[Verse 4: Beno]
Man, lil' b*tch, told her bag my sh*t up
The b*tch was actin' dumb so I smacked that b*tch up
Snuck the AR in the club, had to wrap that b*tch up
[Verse 5: Damedot]
Walked in the club
Ten, twenty, thirty racks on me, dawg, I'm rich as f*ck
She whispered in my ear she gon' give it up, give it up
I whispered in her ear, "b*tch, I'm a hundred up, hundred up"
This VLONE shirt a one of one, one of one
She turned around twerkin', smacked her on her butt
She tryna take it off, say she burnin' up, burnin' up
Now her nipples out and she turnin' up, turnin' up
Pull them choppers out, we don't knuckle up, knuckle up
Yeah, I know the route, put 'em on a bus
[Verse 6: BandGang Paid Will]
Yeah, put 'em on a bus
She was just a bad b*tch, turned her to a sl*t
All I want is the bag, she just wanna f*ck
We got choppers on them rifles like we hunting ducks
Yeah, I'm sipping Akorn, this b*tch getting drunk
And all a n*gga know is run it up
We can't have a conversation, you ain't a hundred up
All these b*tches on my head, they hear I'm bomin' up
[Verse 7: ShredGang Mone]
Shirt off, you see the Shred tatted on my stomach
Ridin' with this Kel-Tec, it got a hundred somethin'
And the clip hangin' from it like a Cinnabon
Chopper bullets comin' out look like some midgets runnin'
Left him on a sh*tbag when it hit his stomach, pus*y
[Verse 8: ShredGang Horse]
Laptop bag, no computer, it's a Draco in it
Sixty shots on it, bro'll paint a n*gga
I don't say what up 'cause I don't play with n*ggas
Hate rats, why the f*ck God make them n*ggas?
Free Stone, only run with them takers, n*gga
[Verse 9: ShredGang Strap]
Shred, and everything heavy
Made his time end, knocked a n*gga out his Prezi
Money Mitch sh*t, I put slugs in his belly
Caught him talkin' on the telephone and left him on telly
My shooter set go like he ain't hear the ready
Could hide the whole motherf*ckin' chop in this Pelle
[Verse 10: BandGang Lonnie Bands]
Shh, hold on, hold on
b*tch, I'm back home, what the f*ck you thought? Huh
Told the feds I'm deaf as hell, man, I can't talk, huh
Heard the opps was celebrating when I got caught, huh
I bet they ain't too happy now, they mans knocked off
Hey, and they other mans can't walk, hey
Walk in the club, watch me turn up, turn up
b*tch on the stage tryna f*ck f*ck
Hold on, hold on, and I got my XD tucked tucked
And I got my razor on me, b*tch, don't get cut cut
Huh, gave the lawyer my whole stash, now I'm broke as f*ck
I ain't gon' lie, you gettin' robbed if you ain't one of us, huh
I walk up on a rapper like give it up, give it up
Man, I just hope this sh*t ain't fake as f*ck
[Verse 11: BandGang Masoe]
Hoo, out in Oakland by the deli
And we got more blues than the intro to Belly
I'm ridin' with a B, this b*tch prettier than Shelly
Out in Oakland crop shoppin', buyin' whatever they'll sell me
Four in one pop, this b*tch darker than a Pepsi
I love my fiend Lisa, b*tch got more money than Leslie
Twenty on me now, n*gga, Jalen Ramsey
I'm somewhere in a tower gettin topped by a fancy
Money