Trill Talk

Yea, yea, nigga
Uh
(I don't wanna be stupid)

Homestead baby, Nawfghan where I'm from
It's a fact I'on know how to act (no I'm not)
I'm movin' with killas fuck you and all of yo' niggas
I'll put 'em all in a pack
Sharper then scissors, front yard wit' the blick
I'm playin' knock wit' the felons
Foreign whip crawl like a lizard fuck a thot quick
Had her moanin', now she yellin'

I just put ten on a opp melon
Money wad lookin' like a head of lettuce
Playin' these schemes for a money fetish
Pickin' on haters, I'm just being petty
Thick country girl want it in her belly
Starin' at my horse, she said, "Whoa, Nelly" (whoa)
Blowin' big blunts and the weed smelly
Runnin' 12 plays, no R. Kelly (uh-uhn)

I'm hotter than human touch after flame on (flame on)
I'm on the block with the gang gettin' our bang on
Harder than stone bitch, you know how I rock
Straight stone-cold might stunner The Rock
My circle too small, you can't cut it like pizza
Swipin' dese hoes like I'm swangin' a visa
Fuckin' mo' hoes then the preacher
Three, two, one, blast off (c'mon)

Fire up the dank in the ship while in orbit
Throwback sum shrooms I be geekin' like Norbit
These rappers ain't thuggin' they gettin' extorted
Don't try me boy yo' life can't afford it
Facebook too soft I keep gettin' reported
Play on my name and get shot out yo' Jordan's
Glock or the ruger which one am I sportin'
It don't really matter, it ain't that important

Just know I'm strapped like it's war on Iraq
Choppin' 'em dine like I work with a ax
No machines here but I'm bringin' the facts
I was runnin' through packs doin' that shit there back to back (fo' real)
Tol' you boys once I'ma son of a gat
Crossin' the clan, that boy must be on crack



Credits
Writer(s): Brandon Watson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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