El Puerto (Butter) - Trilly Trills, Statik Selektah

Guy Fieri on instrumentals

it’s incidental

Booked a room, flew shorty out, and copped a rental

Better know she a fox, you probably get the trembles

Said she tired of the dogs she keep 'em in the kennel

Godbody I never thought that I had a flaw

They be hating they ladies be tryna have it all

What’s the point of the lingerie if you take it off

Pastor TR drip her with the Sunday sauce

Couple hours it marinated, you fabricate it

Knocking down what you barricaded, you gotta hate it

Hate it or love it, we up notches above it

Rise like a soufflé béchamel smothered

Uh, brother not a nare nutta

Whipping in the kitchen like Trilly you know it’s all butter

Chicken get the cream serve it like Calcutta

Hot peas baby come and get ya supper

Ice cold bottles of Bombay

The plantain though hit with cinnamon and a flambé

Trilly be a little Kenny G mixed with Zhane

The smell of success hit 'em

like it was Strangé

Aye,

she tryna play with the yoyo

Giving out the wham wake me up before you go go

Stan Smiths from the flagship down in SOHO

Fat bamboos aesthetics is Key Lo-Lo

Really nice with it give me 20 for a bar

At El Puerto cop a 20 with a claw

Oyster Rockefeller need the other dozen raw

Top notch spitter, I need Michelin stars

ha