Slab Holiday

(album: Sauce Ghetto Gospel 3 - 2022)

Shoutout to the don, man
The king of talking 'bout this slab shit
But I'ma tell you how I put swingers on the foreign and did me though
Spill me?
Yeah

It was a '17 Maybach, all black, leather seats
Fresh out a coupe shop, it cost me 'bout two hundred G's
Could've bought some Forgiatos, but it came on twenty-threes
I'm the young nigga riding around the city in one of these
Pillows in the backseat recline, this a cabin
Only sit two people up in the back, it come with tablets
TV screens lavish, Maybach when you turn it on
I can change my ambient lights in my cellphone
Red, blue, or green
V12 engine mean
Refrigerator up in the back to keep cold my lean
When I used to be a fiend
Riding down King
Wrapped pink all on my car 'cause I made millions off of queens
That's what that double M stand for
I took off the twenty-threes and equipped glass fours
Twenty-inch fifteens crawl down on hoes
I done turned it to the Olympics, they gotta hurdle my foes
That's for sure
I'm the first in the city to ride glass on a Maybach
Had the streets going wild like Mike Billy way back
Who? Nigga, Mike Jones
But the difference is, that was the cheapest car I own
See, I bought twelve more of them bitches
I went Mulsanne and then Rolls on them bitches
Then I bought the '65 and threw fours on them bitches
Now that's two cars glassy
Sauce Walka all through the streets splashy
Drop the top on my car, I'm ashy
But my whips clean
These quarter million dollar cars on G15s
Fours poking out by the grills, looking like lip rings
OGs think I'm tripping for real, but this was Hawk's dream
Evolution, education, revolution
You think swingers wasn't 'posed to levitate, then you stupid
These exotic cars
Exotic engines for exotic stars
Taking bitches on exotic trips for a ménage à trois
At the seawall, everybody wanna know who you are
When you a ghetto superstar, nigga
You think if Pat was alive, he wouldn't drive new cars, nigga?
You think he wouldn't have giraffes in the garage, nigga?
Them ain't OGs
Back then, they was riding in 83s
We also had in-dashes, not fucking touchscreens and Bluetooth
No USBs, OnStar, or Google
Stop acting like this whole world we live in ain't new, fool
Stop acting like the culture shouldn't raise with the time
People wanna see Ferraris on swings coming down
But the fours look cheap when they only on the fleek
The people from out of town can't understand how we think
But it's Forgis on the Rolls truck
Nigga only twenty-five, you in your slab and to him you like an old fuck
Really like an old duck with no luck
Whole time you got more money than that nigga, you really swoled up
You wanna show it
But you ain't even balling right and you ain't even know it
Put them swingers on that Lambo' truck and then explode it
Put them swingers on that Aston, no, go two-door it
Watch they crew know it
'Cause this ain't no 1982 coming through
This a 2021 or 2022
I threw Bape on my Maybach, they knew I was the truth
I threw Bape on the '65, decapitated roof
The brains is loose
I bang the goose
The birds, nigga
I was swinging 84s over curbs, nigga
Like I was tryna cut grass
My cars talk back to me now, I had a bus pass
The seats make the girls hop in, I call 'em touch ass