[Intro: Pimp C]
Yeah
Trill over everything, huh?
That's easy with me
I was brought up on these PA streets
Raised off Efectos and three for ten 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 warnin'
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, woodgrain 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 the sun down
Pimp City, Bun Town, live for it and die too
Don’t disrespect when I slide through or them trill n***as'll slide you
I’m from the south, I’m a southern n***a, corn bread in the oven, n***a
Big woman give me lovin’, cousin, you can hate it or love it n***a
[Pre-Chorus: Bun B]
Either you about it or you not
It’s trill over everything
Some shit you could never change
Bitch, I came up underground to the top
With diamonds against the woodgrain
Word to the candy frame
[Chorus: Bun B]
(I'm the king of the trill)
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
(I'm the king of the trill)
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
(I'm the king of the trill)
[Verse 2: Bun B]
Yeah, it's big Bun, I’m forever trill, O.G. gettin' better still
Comin' down, candy red Deville, can’t break me off, n***a, 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 n***a 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, n***a, pick either pole, n***a, I’m the equivalent, I’ll hurt your soul n***a
Them lies that you told, n***a, I’m really livin’ the ignorance
Straight up out of them backwoods, deep south, dirt roads
Trill n***as that’ll hurt hoes, play pussy, get your skirt rosed
Now you exposed and it’s plain as day, that’s the price of them games you play
All them lies is about to rise, it's some shit you just can’t explain away
Rep-Representin' that south, n***a, gold teeth in my mouth, n***a
Pray to God, but I’ll pull your card, so don't make me run up in yo house, n***a
I’m a man, you a mouse, n***a, make it rain ‘til you doused, n***a
Clean as fuck, you a louse n***a, I’m carnivore, watch me pounce n***a
[Pre-Chorus: Bun B]
Either you about it or you not
It’s trill over everything
Some shit you could never change
Bitch, I came up underground to the top
With diamonds against the woodgrain
Word to the candy frame
[Chorus: Bun B]
(I'm the king of the trill)
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
(I'm the king of the trill)
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
(I'm the king of the trill)
[Interlude: Killa Kyleon]
Yeah
Check, one, two, what it do?
They say run this shit, let's go
[Verse 3: Killa Kyleon]
This H-Town where the Prince king, pop my trunk and let the lip sing
Talkin’ about [?] let the clip sing, get the metal to your mouth like a lip ring
Got even ‘cause I beat the odds, no hands, just dick when I beat your broad
Lookin’ for a super head on Columbus shore, from the glass to the floor when I stomp the yard
Fifty blue Ben Franks just to paint the toy, sittin’ on Vogues like a toilet seat
H-Town n***a, with a Georgia peach, pockets on fat, but I hardly eat
Ain’t ‘bout money, then I hardly speak, still sell chicken, but avoid the beef
Bang, bang, bang, wit' a Ruger piece, bring it to your door like Uber Eats
King not 'Bron, n***a, I am the man
AT&T, n***a, I’m in demand
CIC, n***a, I’m in command
Barrack, no drummer, gold Rollie on my hand
Paid the same price with the brick go
She a green light, yeah, your bitch go
On your hoe molars where the dick go
Keep it one hundred, you a misroll
I’m 6 feet, standin’ on my sack, I’m 6-4
Sweet James Jones, I’m Pimp C
Church on Sunday, on ya bitch row
Sippin’ on oil, no Crisco
Smokin’ on gas, out in Frisco
Burner on deck when I move n***a
Quick as diarrhea, let the shit go
(Brrah!)
[Pre-Chorus: Bun B]
Either you about it or you not
It’s trill over everything
Some shit you could never change
Bitch, I came up underground to the top
With diamonds against the woodgrain
Word to the candy frame
[Chorus: Bun B]
(I'm the king of the trill)
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
(I'm the king of the trill)
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
(I'm the king of the trill)
