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Paul Wall - Bangin Screw Lyrics

Bangin' Screw Song Lyrics
Bangin' Screw by Paul Wall Paul wall
Bangin screw
(Chorus)
Flyyy, heyy,hey
I got dat trunk craked windows tinted,trunk craked windows tinted
Slowed n throwed n im banging screw
Slowed n throwed n im banging screw
Comin down so fly-y-y-y
Smokin leaf so high-i-i-i
Slowed n throwed n im banging screw,slowed n throwed n im banginig screw.
(Verse 1)
What it do it's paul to the wall,trunk up tall and let the 4 screens fall,spot is crawl gon turn up that dial and make they heads all nodd like a bobble head doll,bendin corners up and down way side from greens road to that antoine drive, crew on da side playin nba live, im too cool for school ridin on buckhide, turnin heads when im on dat scott hitten them freaks for real quic stop,boys in the mill talkin bout they on top , 8 months later all them boys flop.like it or not im the game and im showin up keke got dat oil and im pourin up , hit the club wit captain jac and big steve representin my hood still throwin up.big money in the bank it’s a big roll,candy old school drop top full of ho’s,boys used to be sleepin on me but the champ is here i gaurantee that they ass woke, ridin on spoke ,dats the elbow, still rockin dat ice white shell toe,dis for my boys from da kelso and you already know.

(Chorus)


Yeah , im still on that five-9 but might see me on that five-8 comin down, all over the town I like to get around jammin my fat pat screwed up underground, comin down in the lime green eighty eight, while them boys on the sideline wanna hate.bumper kit ? huggin' up the state plate, i must admit my lifes great,T-farris wit me in a snow bunny benz lookin' through a louie lens and we stackin' up ends.bros over hoes yea im talkin bout friends. Got freedom on my arm for my dawg lil twin,dubs on the rim that’s t.i.s just like pretty boy im d-boy fresh got oil comin in and it's strait from da west and gurl throwin mesh on the cadillac crest,head of best I aint messin wit da rest, santa clause sled dat's pomegranate red sippin that taste takin it straight to da head and dat swisha house is wat I rep till im dead.

(Chorus)


Im tippin fo's and im sippin fo's and im flippin hos with my partner clue,posted up at dat TSU or dat PrarieView wit my patna Lew, Hawk boys get outlined in chalk,tryin to run up and jac my slab, this one here for my boy lil kee im throwin duce up and givin boys dab,pourin da juice up and grippin that av, wavin hoods so the bass showcase setin the trends steady choppin up wind with a diamond ice grin and that paper i chase,taper fade by the bad boy shop,tipin slow im screwed up and choped,listening to some of that Robert Earl,them choppaholics,maybe that's michael watts choppin the block up holdin the coupe up,graidy strucked,now im on them swangs, grillen women poped trunk full of bang im third coast raised and im dripin stains,im here to stay tryin to brake that bread, slowed n throwed till the day im deceased,leaning tuff,i got cup full of stuff with a starched crease and a johnny dang peice.

(Chorus)