Now when it come to makin’ money, I’m a print press
And when it come to bein’ trill, I’m the litmus test
Run it like a fitness test
And when it come to making history, I’m like Joe’s son
A million ways to die, you already chose one
A million dollars stacked, it sounds like a new beginning
We on the top now, go back and tell the hood we winning
And while you’re there, let ‘em know I did it just for them
I made ‘em cough the cash up and left ‘em just a phlegm
Is that the King of the Trill
Go tell them Yes it’s him
And his testosterone is up, who’s got the estrogen
I like your girl and I think she like me even more
I hit her with that heave and ho and then I’m leavin’ bro
The Dirty South’s finest, and Dirty South’s behind us
Now that’s a plus on the report card, not a minus
Keep your security blankets because I’m not your Linus
You gotta problem with us
You know just the spot to find us
