Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Trollz’ by 6ix9ine. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 6ix9ine or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
(Sad Pony)
Watch, mhm
Glock, mhm
Cocked, mhm
Got it, mhm
You need that? I got it
This cash in my pockets
The ‘Cat, one hundred
You need that? I got it
Need it, got it, cash, pockets
Bands on me, sticks on me
You need that? I got it
This cash in my pockets
The ‘Cat, one hundred
You need that? I got it
Yeah, she like how I throw them racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin’ that cash
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin’ that ass
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I know you don’t like me, you wanna fight me
You don’t want no problems at your party, don’t invite me
I don’t worry ’bout you niggas, please stop talking ’bout me
Always talking ’bout me ’cause you looking for the clouty
6ix-nina, the 9ine-nina
Riding in the two-seater with two ninas
Baby got that Aquafina, it’s cocaina
Smoking on that OG reefer, no TMZ-a
Forgiatos on a Benz truck, make her friends f*ck
Told her she could get Chanel if she let my friends f*ck
Stars shining in the Rolls Royce, it got red guts
Wait, hold up, nah, I still don’t give a f*ck
Vroom, vroom, G5
Vroom, vroom, we high
You the type of nigga that I never wanna be like
You the type of bitch that will never get a reply
Hi, hater, bye, hater, vroom
And, she like how I throw them racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin’ that cash
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin’ that ass
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dolla Dollar bill, come get her
Even your man know Nickis do it better
I know you don’t like me, you wanna fight me
Always on my page, never double-tap like me (like me)
Baddies to my left and my right (right)
Never chase a corny nigga, put that on my life (life)
Just put it in his face, all this cake
He wanted a taste
We sippin’ on that Ace
Itty-bitty waist, pretty face (face)
Yeah, eat it, Cookie Monsta (ooh)
He a slave to this pussy, call me master
Real wet, I said, “Slurp it like it’s pasta”
They get nervous when it’s Nicki on the roster (rrr)
Somebody usher this nigga into a clinic (clinic)
My flow still sick, I ain’t talkin’ a pandemic (-demic)
I write my own lyrics, a lot of these bitches gimmicks
They study Nicki style, now all of dem wan’ mimic (mimic)
Talkin’ ’bout snitches when it’s snitches in your camp (camp)
Never stand alone, you always itchin’ for a stamp (stamp)
Me, I’m still money, wrists light up like a lamp (lamp)
They gon’ have to send they best fighter for the champ
Racks, I got ’em, Mary, I’m Poppin’
They keep hating, but still watchin’
Check the boards, I’m still toppin’
Bust down or Plain Jane, I got options
It’s a bunch of mini mes, I’m the one they mockin’
Showed you how to get a bag, now you goin’ shoppin’
When I come out, all the sneak bitches start plotting (plotting)
When I come out, it’s a sweep, bitches start mopping
And she like how I throw them racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin’ that cash
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin’ that ass
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Watch, mhm
Glock, mhm
Cocked, mhm
Got it, mhm
If he like, I throw it fast, real fast, fast, fast
He singin’ my old song, yellin’, “Ass, ass, ass”
They be speeding, trying to be me, then they crash, crash, crash
Still a hundred like the number on my dash, dash, dash
That real ass ain’t keep your nigga home