[Chorus:] I got jeweels, plus wheels Pullin up in your grill, I'm so trill Your girl want Cosmos, Cristeels And she feelin around for them pills
Bitch I'm trill, Bitch I'm so trill Nigga I'm trill, Nigga I'm so trill
I got, my steel, I'll peel Pulling up on your grill, I'm so trill Your girl want Cosmos, Cristeels and she feeling around for them pills
Bitch I'm trill, bitch I'm so trill Nigga I'm trill, nigga I'm so trill
[Pusha T:] G's up, rev them V's up Federali's trying to reach us to keep us Flooded pieces, diamond size Reese's Pieces You know who he is, nigga talk show like Regis King Push flow prestigious, hoes suck me like leeches X and Os, tick-tack-toes Fuck 'em, duck 'em, let them go On to the next, got this in the decks of them Cali low-lows Houston, candy paint, screwed up vocals New York, Range Rov, sit on Mo-Mos Pusha in that Bentley, G-T-Oh No Flow chameleon, worth bout a million Sell bolivian, Feds in oblivion Bitch Brazilian, purse reptillian Took her from far off island like Gilligan
[Chorus]
[Malice:] It's me ma, you ain't dreamin Star struck bitch damn near stopped breathing So real that hon' ain't believin Out my bracelet she can't make rhyme or reason Soon as you get your heart involved That's when 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 til that tool gotta talk Icy wrists help me to cool off And the second hand on this bitch it moon walk Reminds me of how I applied myself And why I now ride with Tiptronic help Bankroll on overload I eeny meeny miny moe them hoes, I'm so trill
[Chorus]
[Pusha T:] So many different things make me trill Start with that 'B' with wings over the grill Maybe how my way with words make me mills Or maybe it's my way with birds digital scales Young, restless, talk so reckless Two hundred thousand up in my necklace Four of ya Hummers wrapped round my neck bitch I ain't mention the Rolly red-neck like Texas
[Malice:] To y'all ill-wishers who wanna take part In me getting robbed, well follow ya heart And I'll waste ya, hell I raised ya Even let 'em cheat from my paper Why does wealth make them hate me And make chicks hearts so achy breaky Rarely do I toot my own horn But y'all fellas got too far gone, now come back
[Chorus]
[Beat rides till fade then fireworks go into Chinese New Year]
Composição: G. Thornton; P. Williams; T. Gozney Thornton