Текст песни Bun B feat. Killa Kyleon - Trill Over Everything

Слова песни: Trill Over Everything

[Intro: [?]]
Yeah
Trill over everything, huh?
[?] with me
I was brought up on these PA streets
Raised off Efectos and Three Patin Suites
Rest in peace Lil Don and Dee Ray, they was the hardest to me
See this trill way of life is part of me like a artery
And when it comes to, it ain’t no bargain
So to the ones misinformin’, here’s your fair warning
We trill over everything
Nah, for real

[Verse 1: Bun B]
My Cadillac and my chrome rims, stitch and tuck and my paint job
Vogue tires, my neon lights, trunk on bang and my shit hard
Top drop and my trunk pop, wood grain and it’s all new
Spruced up and I’m juiced up and my deuce chunked when I fall through
Piece 'n chain and my gold ring, Rolex and that bezel lit
I’m G’ed up from the feet up, when we meet up, you can tell the shit
You love me, I’m benevolent, cross me, it’s malevolence
Your bitch bad, but mine better bitch, put a pussy up, we could settle it
I ride slow and I sit low, hat cocked and my gun too
Wit my Levis and my Jordan 5s, white Tee that's how Bun do
Only roll with one crew, one side, one town
That’s PA, and that’s all day, sun up ‘til it's sun down
Pimp City, Bun Town, live for it and die too
Don’t disrespect when I slide through or them trill niggas'll slide you
I’m from the south, I’m a southern nigga, corn bread in the oven nigga
Big woman give me lovin’ cousin, you can hate it or love it nigga

[Pre-Chorus]
Either you about it or you not
It’s trill over everything
Some shit you can never change
Bitch I came up underground to the top
With diamonds against the wood grain
Word to the candy frame

[Chorus]
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is

[Verse 2]
Yeah it's big Bun, I’m forever trill, O.G. gettin' better still
Comin' down, candy red Deville, can’t break me off nigga, bet a mil’
Don't try me hoe, you already know, if you ever think about approachin' me
I’m self-made, self-paid, can't no nigga say he was coachin' me
And I don’t know what they told you, but fuck with me and I’ll fold you
I’m not the one, neither hands or gun, step to Bun, that’s a bold move
I’m cold nigga, pick either nigga, I’m the equivalent, I’ll hurt your soul nigga
Them lies that you told nigga, I’m really livin’ the ignorance
Straight up out of them backwoods, deep south, dirt roads
Trill niggas that’ll hurt hoes, play pussy, get your skirt rolled
Now you exposed and it’s plain as day, that’s the price of them games you played
All them lies is about to arise, is some shit you just can’t explain, no way
Rep-Representin' that south nigga, gold teeth in my mouth nigga
Pray to God, but I’ll pull your card, so don't make me run up in yo house nigga
I’m a man, you a mouse nigga, make it rain ‘til you doused nigga
Clean as fuck, you a louse nigga, I’m carnivore, watch me pounce nigga

[Pre-Chorus]
Either you about it or you not
It’s trill over everything
Some shit you can never change
Bitch I came up underground to the top
With diamonds against the wood grain
Word to the candy frame

[Chorus]
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is

(Check One Two, what it do?
This shit right, let’s go)

[Verse 3: Killa Kyleon]
This H-Town where the Prince king, pop my truck and let the lip sing
Talkin’ about ejaculate a clipse scene, get the metal to your mouth like a lip ring
Got even ‘cause I beat the odds, no hand you dig from the beach abroad
Lookin’ for super head on Columbus shore, from the glass to the floor when I stomp the yard
Fifty blue Ben Frank just to paint the door, sittin’ on vogue like a toilet seat
H-Town nigga, with a Georgia peach, pockets on fed, but I hardly eat
Ain’t ‘bout money, then I hardly speak, still sell chicken, but avoid the beef
Bang, bang, bang, wit the Ruger piece, bringin’ to your door like Uber Eats
King not born, I am the man, AT&T nigga, I’m in demand
CIC nigga, I’m in command, Barrack, no drummer, gold Rollie on my hand
Pick the same braids with her brick gold, she a green light, yeah your bitch gold
Won your hole moments where the dick go, keep it one hundred, you a miss-roll
I’m 6 feet, starin’ at my sack, I’m 6-4, sweet Jane Jones
I’m Pimp C, church on Sunday, only a bitch roll
Sippin’ on oil, no Crisco, smokin’ on gas, I’d Frisco
Burner on debt, but I move nigga, quick as diarrhea, let the shit go
(Brrah!)

[Pre-Chorus]
Either you about it or you not
It’s trill over everything
Some shit you can never change
Bitch I came up underground to the top
With diamonds against the wood grain
Word to the candy frame

[Chorus]
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is
It’s all trill, fuck how they feel, that’s how it is

[Outro]
Trill, trill, trill, trill, trill, trill, trill…

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