[Hook]
Out with hotties on the beach, n***a
Then we mobbin' in the streets, n***a
Going hard up on these beats, n***a
Til they bring back Robin Leach, n***a
Trillwave summer
Trillwave summer
Trillwave summer
It's the trillwave summer
Champagne and c**aine, tell the rap game we comin'
Trillwave summer
It's the trillwave summer
[Verse 1]
Champagne wishes, caviar dreams
Setting motion to this million dollar scheme
Not on the corner with the hammer and beam
Won't go Hammer cause accountants will be counting up this cream
n***a going mental, trying to get a dental
Plan for my clan, Greenspan with financials
You living provincial, I'm New York residential
This pencil's all I need to be k**ing these minstrels
Real black n***a, living eventful
Born in Queens, n***a, be vengeful, influential
86 these instrumentals, '88 when I was born in
Rain bullets on Klan torrential, leave 88ers mourning
Always trill and never boring, liquor spilling in the morning
To the evening, when I'm seeing girls and make their pussies pouring
Take warning, like Operation Ivy
We make the party lively
Turn up way more than slightly
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
Straight counterculture vibing
And if you ain't unsightly, you can ride me
Feel like Scorsese, cause I'm out with good fellas
Got my n***as in Brooklyn, and we're going gorillas
First crib looked like Manila, second looks like Milan
They don't want us succeeding, they want us to get gone
Don't want us to drop bombs or become icons
Put us in Section 8, treat it like District 9
The girls around me are tens, so I'm saying they're dimes
My swag turned up to eleven, I'm spinal tapping with rhymes
Slim like Dunkin, no Hines
My wallet's crispy with cream
My face's pages be sticky in your girl's magazines
Jolly giant with green, I'm like Walter with white
In the bathroom with coke, you're on the sofa with sprite
This the end of the tape, time to let it take flight
So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight
[ending]
They're calling me a n***a and a f*g
Trying to put me in a bag
I ain't stopping 'til my toe's got a tag
And my clothes turn to rags
And my bones turn to ash
And on that day, don't bother praying
God hates swag, n***a