Fake Trill - Isaiah Rashad

The no stoner, has a boner, I need head and some sex

Sometimes vulgar, I’m quite Homer, dream 'bout booze and some tits

Speak 'bout bitches less than often cause they lie for the dick

Thus an evil of a creature, who plays games on gent

I sit lonely in my Honda, behind darkest of tint

Smoke a woodtip for my problems and give Brandy a sip

Get confided in the voice, spill my feelings and shit

Breaking codes and regulations, not a pimp nor a simp

Give me things that make me happy, cause the bottom I hit

Fuck a bowl, give me love, fuck your words, give me drugs Promethazine,

a nice to meet you, you made bitch niggas all seem to

Misuse the words of trill, hold the gun so they real

'til their face in the reel, watch a real nigga squeal

When the piglets peal, the tabs off of your grill

Yeah you chirping, pleading deals with your faggot ass

Been sipping on this, stop telling me, start to get sober

Bill Bellamy, tickle my bellilly, I would do anything just to get over

So I drank sometimes, then I paint these rhymes, pardon me, I’m antsy

Why?

My heart quite nervous, '95 I’m swerving, then I hit them curbs

No then boys ain’t working, fuck a black Suburban, commissary purchase

My daddy calls, I barely answer, fuck parental curses

I spit too many verses, I know you fucking heard 'em

So why you leave them voicemails that you know gone hurt me

Tired of rapping that real shit, if nobody gone feel this

I could be gripping that steel shit, you too busy to deal with

It’s like, they told me all the time «You got the gift of the gab»

Finally niggas is listening, yeah, then I just start with this missing my dad

Damn, so like when… you gone quit?

You trill now, huh?

You cool, huh?

You real?

You real, that’s what’s popular, huh?

That’s cool, you UGK for life, huh?

Boy Stop