Isaiah Rashad, Michael da Vinci - Fake Trill lyrics
[Isaiah Rashad, Michael da Vinci - Fake Trill lyrics]
The no stoner, has a boner
I need head and some sex
Sometimes vulgar, I'm quite Homer
Dream 'bout booze and some tit's
Speak 'bout bitches less than often cause
They lie for the dick
Thus an evil of a creature
Who plays games on a git
I sit lonely in my Honda
Behind darkest of tint
Smoke a woodtip for my problems
And give Brandy a sip
Get confided in the voice
Spill my feelings and shit
Breaking codes and regulations
Not a pimp nor a simp
Give me things that make me happy
Cause the bottom I hit
Fuck a bowl, give me love, fuck your words
Give
Me drugs Promethazine, a nice to meet you
You made bitch niggas all seem to
Misuse the words of trill
Hold the gun so they real
'til their face in the reel
Watch a real nigga squeal
When the piglets peal
The tabs off of your grill
Yeah you chirping
Pleading deals with your faggot ass
Been sipping on this, stop telling me
Start to get sober
Bill Bellamy, tickle my bellilly
I would do anything just to get over
So I drank sometimes, then I
Paint these rhymes, pardon me, i'm antsy
Why? My heart quite nervous
'95 I'm swerving, then I hit them curbs
No then boys ain't working
Fuck a black Suburban, commissary purchase
My daddy calls, I barely answer
Fuck parental curses i spit too many verses
I know you fucking heard 'em
So why you leave them voicemails that
You know gone hurt me
Tired of rapping that real shit
If nobody gone feel this
I could be gripping that steel shit
You too busy to deal with it's like
They told me all the time "You
Got the gift of the gab"
Finally niggas is listening, yeah
Then I just start with this missing my dad
Damn, so like when you gone
Quit? You trill now, huh?
You cool, huh? You real? You
Real, that's what's popular, huh?
That's cool, you UGK for life, huh? Boy Stop
I need head and some sex
Sometimes vulgar, I'm quite Homer
Dream 'bout booze and some tit's
Speak 'bout bitches less than often cause
They lie for the dick
Thus an evil of a creature
Who plays games on a git
I sit lonely in my Honda
Behind darkest of tint
Smoke a woodtip for my problems
And give Brandy a sip
Get confided in the voice
Spill my feelings and shit
Breaking codes and regulations
Not a pimp nor a simp
Give me things that make me happy
Cause the bottom I hit
Fuck a bowl, give me love, fuck your words
Give
Me drugs Promethazine, a nice to meet you
You made bitch niggas all seem to
Misuse the words of trill
Hold the gun so they real
'til their face in the reel
Watch a real nigga squeal
When the piglets peal
The tabs off of your grill
Yeah you chirping
Pleading deals with your faggot ass
Been sipping on this, stop telling me
Start to get sober
Bill Bellamy, tickle my bellilly
I would do anything just to get over
So I drank sometimes, then I
Paint these rhymes, pardon me, i'm antsy
Why? My heart quite nervous
'95 I'm swerving, then I hit them curbs
No then boys ain't working
Fuck a black Suburban, commissary purchase
My daddy calls, I barely answer
Fuck parental curses i spit too many verses
I know you fucking heard 'em
So why you leave them voicemails that
You know gone hurt me
Tired of rapping that real shit
If nobody gone feel this
I could be gripping that steel shit
You too busy to deal with it's like
They told me all the time "You
Got the gift of the gab"
Finally niggas is listening, yeah
Then I just start with this missing my dad
Damn, so like when you gone
Quit? You trill now, huh?
You cool, huh? You real? You
Real, that's what's popular, huh?
That's cool, you UGK for life, huh? Boy Stop