Letra de 'The IllEST, the realEST & the trillEST (feat. Bun B & Trae tha Truth)' de Machine Gun Kelly

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The IllEST, the realEST & the trillEST (feat. Bun B & Trae tha Truth) es una canción de Machine Gun Kelly cuya letra tiene innumerables búsquedas, por lo que hemos decidido que merece tener su lugar en este sitio web, junto con otras muchas letras de canciones que los internautas desean conocer.

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Pesos, pesos, all I know is chase those
Everyday I wake up, all I drink is Jamo
My bitch is insane, all she want is anal
She cut blow with Drain-O, bust it on the table
Everybody say they loyal, tell me where the fuck is they though?
We ain’t never see you bitches, Carmen San Diego
I ain’t ever sold my soul, I ain’t ever had no halo
Smoke J’s big as egg rolls, hit that Jose Canseco
Mix that OJ and Cuervo, so high that I see angels
Came all the way from the kitchen, frying them potatoes
And y'all can talk all you want to, cause it will never be in my face though
And ya’ll mothafuckas keep lookin, but can’t nobody fill my space ho

I'm the realest muthafucka, I'm on some UGK
(Thrillest muthafucka, ya feel me, mane?)

Asshole kinda moody, hoe
Mexico with a plug called Julio
I been trappin' this brick out the studio
What the fuck you think I got this tulip for?
Know bout yo gat tryna screw me tho
When I pull up I be lookin' like a movie, hoe
Old school like Coolio, bitch, I got a suiter in the back
Nigga fruity-O, they must not know
I am the one that greed like the hood
I will come get ya, although never pull up at topezoes
Hop out and go for the price of your life, I got money
The flo, I'm bout that, homie, I bet you can't top that, homie
Money can't count that, homie, all go brief, the end drippin' off that, homie
Yeah, I got yo bitch on the side, she say she got ass
You only wanna boss that, homie
Tell her that now, prolly gonna finish on the block
'fore somebody go to tellin' out, homie
How they play unknown, neva stand down
These chains got me coolin' like a fan now
Ain't no brother tryna compete, that shit gay
Like everybody wanna be the man now

I'm the realest muthafucka, they call it murder high
(I kill this muthafucka, ya feel me, mate?)

Original nigga I’ve never been cloned
Never been sober, I’m high like a drone
Smoking a cone, used to distribute cocaine in your zone
But shit I moved on, to bigger and better
I’m smarter and wiser, so this shouldn’t be a surprise
See me pull up in the foreigner size of shotgun shug where I used to reside bra
You gots to be in the gym, physically fit if you comin for him
You already know that I’m coming with them, trigger it in cause you sink or you swim
So don’t get down cause you might get drowned cause I don’t fuck around my brother
So don’t make a sound just shut up before I hit you with the quarter pound muh'fucker
Anybody wanna catch a square anytime, any place I'll be right there
Standing in the middle of the motherfucking street
Ready with them hands and I'm ready with the heat
Took all my feet that I been that I look
You can play if you want but you will get took
Bumping them gloves, oh look you a piece with a hook
Real quick life is bitch you shooked look
I wrote the book on this real shit
25 years and I still spit
Murder the mic and I kill shit
And that's something you folks have to deal with
Bring me your boss and I put him to work
Eat him for lunch and then that's fo' dessert
Fuck with me and your feelings get hurt
Then I put you to sleep, take a nap in the dirt
Cause I don't feel this muthafucka
I was born the best and yes
(I'm still this muthafucka)
(You feel me, mane?)

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