Artist: Bun B f/ Killa Kyleon
Album:  Return of the Trill
Song:   Trill Over Everything
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro]
Yeah
Trill over everything, huh?
This easy for me
I was brought up on these P.A. streets
Raised off Efectos and Three Patin Suites
Rest in peace Lil Don and Dee Ray, they was the hardest to me
See this trill way of life is a 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 warning
We trill over everything
Nah, for real

[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, wood grain and it's all new
Spruced up and I'm juiced up and my deuce chunked when I fall through
Piece in 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
With my Levis and my Jordan 5s, white tee, that's how Bun do
Only roll with one crew, one side, one town
That's P.A. and that's all day, sun up 'til it's sun down
Pimp City, Bun Town, live for it and die too
Don't disrespect when I slide through or them trill niggaz'll slide you
I'm from the South, I'm a Southern nigga, cornbread in the oven nigga
Thick woman give me lovin cousin, you can hate it or love it nigga

[Chorus: Bun B]
Either you about it or you not
It's trill over everything, some shit you can never change
Bitch I came up underground to the top
With diamonds 'gainst the wood grain, word to the candy frame
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
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

[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 nigga, bet a mil'
Don't try me hoe, you already know, if you ever think 'bout approachin me
I'm self-made, self-paid, can't nann nigga 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 nigga, pick either pole nigga, I'm the equivalent
I'll hurt your soul nigga, them lies that you told nigga, I'm really livin it
Ignorance straight up out of them backwoods, deep South, dirt roads
Trill niggaz that'll hurt hoes, play pussy, get your skirt rolled
Now you exposed and it's plain as day, that's the price of them games you played
All them lies is about to rise, it's some shit you just can't explain away
Rep-representin that South nigga, gold teeth in my mouth nigga
Pray to God but I'll pull your card so don't make me run up in yo' house nigga
I'm a man, you a mouse nigga, make it rain 'til you doused nigga
Clean as fuck, you a louse nigga, I'm carnivore, watch me pounce nigga

[Chorus]

[Killa Kyleon]
Yeah, check one-two, what it do?
This shit right, let's go

This H-Town, where the Prince king? Pop my trunk and let it lip sing
Talkin 'bout jackin 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 Frank just to paint the toy, sittin on Vogues like a toilet seat
H-Town nigga 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 with a Ruger piece, bring it to your door like Uber Eats
King not 'Bron nigga I am the man, AT&T nigga I'm in demand
C.I.C. nigga I'm in command, barrack, no drummer, gold Roley on my hand
Paid the same price where the brick go, she a green light, yeah your bitch go
On your hoe molars where the dick go, keep it 100, you a mis-roll
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 nigga, quick as diarrhea, let the shit go
Brrah!

[Chorus]

[Outro]
Trill! {*echoes*}