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(Bun. B) |
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Well we the real Trill, playas postin up in the corner |
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Sippin and blowin on purple, gettin lit like we wanna |
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My persona is O.G., my aura is green |
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and I'm known for comin down on them blaze, sippin lean |
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So fresh and clean, I'm draped up and dripped out |
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Every time I hit the scene, they say, "Bun, you done tripped out" |
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If I ain't got nothin new, I ain't comin outside |
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That goes for clothes and rolls, shoes, jewels, and rides |
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I done try to be low-key, and change up my handy |
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But if I don't show off my dough, how dey gon' know that I have it? |
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I'm too used to the flossin, I'm too used to the shine |
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and I gotsta to relive this tread as hard as I like to grind |
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So right now is the time, and right here is the place |
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We gon' pop up the bottle until we po' off the taste |
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Everybody showin +love+, and we know where they +tainted+ |
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So throw your hand up in the air if yo' car's candy-painted, c'mon! |
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(Chorus 2X: D-Brock) |
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They see me ridin-a, they see me grindin |
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They see me steppin up, they see me shinin' |
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And they say it's like can-dy |
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(and what they sayin, s-sayin) |
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It's like can-dy |
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(Phonte) |
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Aiyyo, I met this new girl (wha?) wit big juicy lips (wha?!) |
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and nice round hips, I mean her body is a safe space |
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and niggaz that hate Tay say her body's a trip |
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Aiyyo, it's more than a trip faaam, her body's a vacate |
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and we 'bout to make way, and step out on the town |
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to do it the way we do it and such |
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Had a couple kids so we cain't, do it as much |
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But when we do it, we do it like they do it in church (c'mon) |
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Made 'em scream Hallelujah for it, for on a night like this |
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It seems my double-breasted ain't suited for it (tell 'em) |
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So I'ma hit 'em wit hard bottoms, slacks and button-downs |
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Initials in the cup links, the boy don't fuck around |
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The game is in trouble now, cause we on dancefloor |
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doin the two-step and people starts to applaud (*imitation cheering*) |
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For Mr., and Mrs. Tiggalo they Dancin With the Stars |
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Dead broke, but tonight we party like we million-arrs, yes Lawd! |
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(Chorus) |
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(Rapper Big Pooh) |
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Aiyyo, peep game, this is real rap |
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A la' niggaz wanna see where my skillz at |
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A la' hoes wanna know where the bills at |
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I'm like, "Mami, beat the streets," she don't feel that |
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Ralph Lauren, ?Ill Skin?, yeah I'm all that |
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I'm laid-back in the Lex and it's all-black |
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"Cool nigga over there" is what you call that |
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Matter a-fact, I do it like it's goin outta style |
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Karat profile, two dimples when I smile |
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?Don't chaff?, feel the air when I pass all the while |
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Hoes keep eyein me down, yet they eyein me now |
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Me and Trey tryin ten for town |
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Gettin down wit my 1-2, and this how we do |
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I came to shut the party down, it's official |
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and every night like New Year's Eve |
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I go hard like you wouldn't believe, I'm dat DUDE!! |
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(Chorus) |
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(Phonte) |
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Yes, Little Brother, Bun. B collaboration |
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Pimp C. welcome home, yo thanks for the love man, it's all good |
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Shout out to all my niggaz out in Texas |
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Out in Houston, I'm talkin 'bout The Foundation |
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I'm talkin 'bout Cosmos |
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My nigga Frank, whaddup? |
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My nigga O. Cliff, whaddup? |
