| Yeah
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| Trill over everything, huh?
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| with me
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| I was brought up on these PA streets
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| Raised off Efectos and Three Patin Suites
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| Rest in peace Lil Don and Dee Ray
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| They was the hardest to me
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| See this trill way of life is part of me like a artery
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| And when it comes to, it ain’t no bargain
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| So to the ones misinformin', here’s your fair warning
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| We trill over everything
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| Nah, for real
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| My Cadillac and my chrome rims
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| Stitch and tuck and my paint job
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| Vogue tires, my neon lights
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| Trunk on bang and my shit hard
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| Top drop and my trunk pop
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| Wood grain and it’s all new
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| Spruced up and I’m juiced up
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| And my deuce chunked when I fall through
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| Piece 'n chain and my gold ring
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| Rolex and that bezel lit
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| I’m G’ed up from the feet up
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| When we meet up, you can tell the shit
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| You love me, I’m benevolent
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| Cross me, it’s malevolence
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| Your bitch bad, but mine better bitch
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| Put a pussy up, we could settle it
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| I ride slow and I sit low
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| Hat cocked and my gun too
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| Wit my Levi’s and my Jordan 5's
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| White Tee that’s how Bun do
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| Only roll with one crew
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| One side, one town
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| That’s PA, and that’s all day
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| Sun up 'til it’s sun down
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| Pimp City, Bun Town
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| Live for it and die too
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| Don’t disrespect when I slide through
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| Or them trill niggas’ll slide you
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| I’m from the south, I’m a southern nigga
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| Corn bread in the oven nigga
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| Big woman give me lovin' cousin
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| You can hate it or love it nigga
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| Either you about it or you not
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| It’s trill over everything
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| Some shit you can never change
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| Bitch I came up underground to the top
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| With diamonds against the wood grain
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| Word to the candy frame
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| It’s all trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| It’s all trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| It’s trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| It’s all trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| Yeah it’s big Bun, I’m forever trill
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| O.G. |
| getting better still
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| Coming down, candy red Deville
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| Can’t break me off nigga, bet a mil'
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| Don’t try me hoe, you already know
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| If you ever think about approaching me
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| I’m self-made, self-paid
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| Now nigga say he was coaching me
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| And I don’t know what they told you
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| But fuck with me and I’ll fold you
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| I’m not the one, neither hands or gun
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| Step to Bun, that’s a bold move
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| I’m cold nigga, nigga
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| I’m the equivalent, I’ll hurt your soul nigga
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| Them lies that you told nigga
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| I’m really livin' the ignorance
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| Straight up out of them backwoods
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| Deep south, dirt roads
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| Trill niggas that’ll hurt hoes
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| Play pussy, get your skirt rolled
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| Now you exposed and it’s plain as day
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| That’s the price of them games you played
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| All them lies is about to arise
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| Is some shit you just can’t explain, no way
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| Rep-Representing that south nigga
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| Gold teeth in my mouth nigga
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| Pray to God, but I’ll pull your guard slow
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| Make me run up in yo house nigga
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| I’m a man, you a mouse nigga
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| Make it rain 'til you doused nigga
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| Clean as fuck, you a louse nigga
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| I’m carnivore, watch me pounce nigga
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| Either you about it or you not
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| It’s trill over everything
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| Some shit you can never change
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| Bitch I came up underground to the top
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| With diamonds against the wood grain
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| Word to the candy frame
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| It’s all trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| It’s all trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| It’s trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| It’s all trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| (Check One Two, what it do?
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| This shit right, let’s go)
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| This H-Town where the Prince king
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| Pop my truck and let the lip sing
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| Talkin' about ejaculate a clipse scene
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| Get the metal to your mouth like a lip ring
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| Got even 'cause I beat the odds
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| No hand you dig from the beach abroad
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| Lookin' for super head, I’m Columbus shore
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| From the glass to the floor when I stomp the yard
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| Minty blue, Ben Frank just to paint the door
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| Sittin' on vogue like a toilet seat
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| H-Town nigga, where the Georgia beach?
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| Pockets on fed, but I hardly eat
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| Ain’t 'bout money, then I hardly speak
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| Still sell chicken, but avoid the beef
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| Bang, bang, bang, where the Ruger piece?
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| Bringin' to your door like Uber Eats
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| King not born, I am the man
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| AT&T nigga, I’m in demand
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| CIC nigga, I’m in command
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| Barrack, no drummer, go rollie on my hand
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| Pick the same braids with her brick gold
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| She a green light, yeah your bitch gold
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| Won your hole moments where the dick go
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| Keep it one hundred, you a miss-roll
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| I’m 6 feet, starin' at my sack
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| I’m 6−4, sweet Jane Jones
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| I’m Pimp C, church on Sunday
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| Only a bitch roll, sippin' on oil
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| No Crisco, smokin' on gas
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| I’d Frisco, burner on debt
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| But I move nigga, quicker than diarrhea
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| Let the shit go
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| (Brrah!)
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| Either you about it or you not
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| It’s trill over everything
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| Some shit you can never change
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| Bitch I came up underground to the top
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| With diamonds against the wood grain
|
| Word to the candy frame
|
| 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 trill, fuck how they feel
|
| That’s how it is
|
| It’s all trill, fuck how they feel
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| That’s how it is
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| Trill, trill, trill… |