Chorus:
I got two whips
Plus wheels (what)
Pulling up in ya grill im so trill
Ya girl want cosmos, crysteels (fuck outa here)
And she feeling around for them bills.
Bitch im trill, (you don’t hear me though) bitch im so trill (what?)
Nigga im trill, (you don’t hear me though) nigga im so trill (what, what?)
I got my steel
I will pulling up in ya grill i’m so trill
Ya girl want cosmos, crysteels
And she feeling around for them bills.
Bitch im trill, (you don’t hear me though) bitch im so trill (what?)
Nigga im trill, (you don’t hear me though) nigga im so trill (what, what?)
Verse 1
Pusha-T:
G’s up, rev them V’s up
Federallies trying to reach us to keep us
Flooded pieces, diamond size Reeses pieces
You know who he is, nigga talk show like Regis
King Push flow prestigious (what?)
Hoes suck me like leaches
X’s O’s, tic tac toes
Fuck em, duck em, let them go
On to the next, rock em on the decks of the cali low-lows
Houston, candy paint, screwed up vocals
New York, Range Rove, sitting on momo’s
Pitcher in that Bently GT, «OH NO»
Flow chamillion, worth bout a million
Cell bolivian, feds in oblivion
Bitch brazillian, purse reptillian
Took her from far off island like Gilligan
Chorus
Verse 2
Malice:
It’s me ma… you aint dreaming
Star struck bitch, damn they stop breathing
So real that hun aint believing
Out my bracelets, she can’t make ____ reason
Soon as you get your heart involved
Thats where I fall back Love, au revoir
So international, French riviera
Love for foreign cars would explain my Carrera
Who cares when these fools talk
Don’t mean jack till that tool gotta talk
Icy wrist help me to cool off
And the second hand in this bitch will moon walk
Reminds me how I applied my self
And why I now ride with tiptronic health
Bank roll on overload, I eenie meenie minie mo them hoes
I’m so trill
Chorus
Verse 3
Pusha-T:
So many different things make me trill
Start with that «B» with wings over the grill
Maybe how my ways with words make me mills
Or maybe it’s my way with birds, digital skills
Young, restless, talk so reckless
200 thoushand up in my necklace
Four of ya Hummers wrapped round my neck bitch
I aint mention the rolly redneck like texas.
Malice:
To ya’ll ill wishas that wanna take part
In me getting robbed, well follow ya heart.
And I’ll waste ya, hell i’ll raise ya
Even let them cheat from my paper
Why does wealth make them hate me
And makes chicks hearts so achy breaky
Rarely do I toot my own horn.
But ya fellas got too far gone now comeback
Chorus
