Lyrics:

[J. Prince:]
Ah yeah. What's up pimp? I feel your presence right now
Yo Bun. You know many are called few are chosen
You the chosen one, my nigga, the future president, congratulations
By the way I need you to send a Trill message to some
And a subliminal one to others about this throwin' rocks then hidin' your hand business.
Please let 'em know that we gon' give them what they ask for.

[Bun B:]
Man I'm too hard for all of you soft niggas
Too real for most of you lames
Too raw to be in this rap shit the streets is the same
Too throwed off in this game, too true to my hood
I'm too down to get down so let's get it understood
Too bad to be good, too golden not glisten
Too focused for fuck boys to fuck off my mission
Too smart not to listen when G's pull my coat
'About them white folks that's listenin' watchin' my boat
That's real shit you can quote I'm too gangsta too street
So don't run up too fast 'cause I'm too strapped with that heat
I'm too dirty to be me too gorilla to be monkey
Too fly to stay grounded too fresh to be funky
Too many licks for junkies, too much work for flippers
Too much dro for smokers, too much amp for dippers
No need for you to trip 'cause we bring too much drama
Got too many killers put that on my mama
I'm II Trill.

[Hook: Z-Ro]
I'm II Trill, too too too real
All about my dollar bills even if I tried
I could never fall off too much money on my mind
I'm II Trill, too too too real
Hard as penitentiary steel it's simple plain
If I retired you young'uns wouldn't know what to do with the game.

[Bun B:]
And I'm too serious for this play playin' it's too much bread to make
For me to fuck of my time with these cats that's too fake
I done seen too many wakes, sent too many to them
Your homeboy can get it I'm to ready to do it
Too many guns I can pull, too many slugs I can bust
Leave yo' brain matter, bone fragments dick up in the dust
Too many niggas I done crushed to let yo' bitch ass come try me
That smart game got gun play you'll be screamin' why me
Too close don't get by me, you too prone to tell
'About these bodies we catchin' this dope that we sell
You too weak ,mayne too frail, too light off in yo' britches
You too much dick ridin' mayne you worse than these bitches
Too many snitches that you breakin' bread wit
You too close to police, boy you on some fed shit
So you can go head with that sale, we won't' buy
I'm too smart for all that dumb shit you know but boys try.
I'm II Trill.

[Hook: Z-Ro]
I'm II Trill, too too too real
All about my dollar bills even if I tried
I could never fall off too much money on my mind
I'm II Trill, too too too real
Hard as penitentiary steel it's simple plain
If I retired you young'uns wouldn't know what to do with the game.

[Bun B:]
And I'm too sick of all this sweet shit 'cause I'm seein' too much smilin'
Too much fuck ass posin' too much punk ass profilin'
Too many niggas be frontin' like they got the town on lock
With too much money in the bank too many hoes is on they jock
But you smoke too many of them rocks that you claimin' you done sold
I done been out on them blocks you ain't got too much control
Man yo' workers ain't that cold, they some hoes more or lesser
And they too ready to fold 'cause they can't take too much pressure.
Do we mash on them? Yes sir they in violation, go get 'em
It won't be too long before we mop up the flow with 'em
It's rap-a-lot for life we done been here too long
To let these haters bring us down we too right they too wrong
I'm too black too strong to go out like a punk
Too ready for the ruckus too close to my trunk
We can pop or we can jump we can blast or we can go
From the shoulders bitch I tried to told you but if you ain't know
I'm II Trill.

"II Trill, II..."