so trill

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

fuck

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

it's hard in the south when you try to stack a mill'

and scream to the lord it's 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

it's hard in the south when you try to stack a mill'

and scream to the lord it's 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

it's hard in the south when you try to stack a mill'

and scream to the lord it's so trill