Trill Lyrics
| Song | Trill |
| Artist | David Banner |
| Album | Them Firewater Boyz, Vol. 1 |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Lavell Crump | |
| 作曲 : Lavell Crump | |
| Bread and water..This what it comes down to | |
| I remember when these kids got killed up in Pearl | |
| Is it the end of the world? Grown men acting like bitches | |
| Bitches actin' like men, and it's all good | |
| As long as all these records keep sellin' | |
| Niggaz time cut so these snitches keep tellin' | |
| Yall know it ain't right.. | |
| And I ain't bending for these hoes | |
| Is this the part when my God comes back and starts throwin' elbows? | |
| Man these children gone astray, and no daddies in the home | |
| So they turn to gun play, or they just turn gay | |
| Half-bit like they rich broke, niggaz swisha sweet | |
| So I sit, in a lac and just smoke,stayin' down in the street | |
| Vernon Dixon? Georgetown in the hills | |
| The subs and the boys in Hattiesburg so trill | |
| The delta and coast, the queens is what I boast | |
| But these kids in the south is what a nigga love the most | |
| Damn, the kids is what a nigga loves most | |
| ****, so trill.. | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it's so trill (so trill) | |
| It's hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it's so trill (so trill) | |
| I remember when the twin towers fell | |
| Did the boys in the G know, or just didn't tell? | |
| I ain't forgot about Gore, and them trick ass ballots | |
| Numbers tossed around in the mix like a salad | |
| Or a bird in the Bush | |
| Or a brother up in office tryna give a big push | |
| Yall dont try to praise God now | |
| He been watchin from the jump, i'ma crunk | |
| Quick to pull the sawed pump, skull and bones yall can kill me | |
| I'ma G, and the world is gon' feel me | |
| Bet you neva thought the truth would come straight from the middle of Mississippi | |
| So P-Boy keep pushin'.. | |
| We some big ones,life would street, man we all on a mission | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it's so trill (so trill) | |
| It's hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it's so trill (so trill) | |
| This for my boys in the pen and my thugs on the county farms | |
| If it's war then I swear i'm gonna raise them arms | |
| And come and getcha, send me a kite... | |
| And I promise that I'll write ya back or smoke a fat sack in ya name | |
| I ain't no bitch or no hoe or no trick | |
| Tryna ride a nigga dick just to make a quick hit | |
| I ain't writin' love songs for prissy bitches | |
| I make songs for the queens who lost sight in the hood | |
| Mayne i made some bullshit but it's good | |
| And if ya see me then you see this shit across my chest | |
| I pray to God, let my spirit do the rest | |
| I pray to God, let my spirit do the rest | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it's so trill (so trill) | |
| It's hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it's so trill (so trill) |
| zuo ci : Lavell Crump | |
| zuo qu : Lavell Crump | |
| Bread and water. . This what it comes down to | |
| I remember when these kids got killed up in Pearl | |
| Is it the end of the world? Grown men acting like bitches | |
| Bitches actin' like men, and it' s all good | |
| As long as all these records keep sellin' | |
| Niggaz time cut so these snitches keep tellin' | |
| Yall know it ain' t right. . | |
| And I ain' t bending for these hoes | |
| Is this the part when my God comes back and starts throwin' elbows? | |
| Man these children gone astray, and no daddies in the home | |
| So they turn to gun play, or they just turn gay | |
| Half-bit like they rich broke, niggaz swisha sweet | |
| So I sit, in a lac and just smoke, stayin' down in the street | |
| Vernon Dixon? Georgetown in the hills | |
| The subs and the boys in Hattiesburg so trill | |
| The delta and coast, the queens is what I boast | |
| But these kids in the south is what a nigga love the most | |
| Damn, the kids is what a nigga loves most | |
| , so trill. . | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| It' s hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| I remember when the twin towers fell | |
| Did the boys in the G know, or just didn' t tell? | |
| I ain' t forgot about Gore, and them trick ass ballots | |
| Numbers tossed around in the mix like a salad | |
| Or a bird in the Bush | |
| Or a brother up in office tryna give a big push | |
| Yall dont try to praise God now | |
| He been watchin from the jump, i' ma crunk | |
| Quick to pull the sawed pump, skull and bones yall can kill me | |
| I' ma G, and the world is gon' feel me | |
| Bet you neva thought the truth would come straight from the middle of Mississippi | |
| So P-Boy keep pushin'. . | |
| We some big ones, life would street, man we all on a mission | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| It' s hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| This for my boys in the pen and my thugs on the county farms | |
| If it' s war then I swear i' m gonna raise them arms | |
| And come and getcha, send me a kite. . . | |
| And I promise that I' ll write ya back or smoke a fat sack in ya name | |
| I ain' t no bitch or no hoe or no trick | |
| Tryna ride a nigga dick just to make a quick hit | |
| I ain' t writin' love songs for prissy bitches | |
| I make songs for the queens who lost sight in the hood | |
| Mayne i made some bullshit but it' s good | |
| And if ya see me then you see this shit across my chest | |
| I pray to God, let my spirit do the rest | |
| I pray to God, let my spirit do the rest | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| It' s hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill |
| zuò cí : Lavell Crump | |
| zuò qǔ : Lavell Crump | |
| Bread and water. . This what it comes down to | |
| I remember when these kids got killed up in Pearl | |
| Is it the end of the world? Grown men acting like bitches | |
| Bitches actin' like men, and it' s all good | |
| As long as all these records keep sellin' | |
| Niggaz time cut so these snitches keep tellin' | |
| Yall know it ain' t right. . | |
| And I ain' t bending for these hoes | |
| Is this the part when my God comes back and starts throwin' elbows? | |
| Man these children gone astray, and no daddies in the home | |
| So they turn to gun play, or they just turn gay | |
| Half-bit like they rich broke, niggaz swisha sweet | |
| So I sit, in a lac and just smoke, stayin' down in the street | |
| Vernon Dixon? Georgetown in the hills | |
| The subs and the boys in Hattiesburg so trill | |
| The delta and coast, the queens is what I boast | |
| But these kids in the south is what a nigga love the most | |
| Damn, the kids is what a nigga loves most | |
| , so trill. . | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| It' s hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| I remember when the twin towers fell | |
| Did the boys in the G know, or just didn' t tell? | |
| I ain' t forgot about Gore, and them trick ass ballots | |
| Numbers tossed around in the mix like a salad | |
| Or a bird in the Bush | |
| Or a brother up in office tryna give a big push | |
| Yall dont try to praise God now | |
| He been watchin from the jump, i' ma crunk | |
| Quick to pull the sawed pump, skull and bones yall can kill me | |
| I' ma G, and the world is gon' feel me | |
| Bet you neva thought the truth would come straight from the middle of Mississippi | |
| So P-Boy keep pushin'. . | |
| We some big ones, life would street, man we all on a mission | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| It' s hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| This for my boys in the pen and my thugs on the county farms | |
| If it' s war then I swear i' m gonna raise them arms | |
| And come and getcha, send me a kite. . . | |
| And I promise that I' ll write ya back or smoke a fat sack in ya name | |
| I ain' t no bitch or no hoe or no trick | |
| Tryna ride a nigga dick just to make a quick hit | |
| I ain' t writin' love songs for prissy bitches | |
| I make songs for the queens who lost sight in the hood | |
| Mayne i made some bullshit but it' s good | |
| And if ya see me then you see this shit across my chest | |
| I pray to God, let my spirit do the rest | |
| I pray to God, let my spirit do the rest | |
| I grab a pen and pad and try to tell you how I feel | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill | |
| It' s hard in the south when you try to stack a mill' | |
| And scream to the lord it' s so trill so trill |
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