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TRICK DADDY lyrics : "Dro In The Wind f/ Big Boi, Cee-Lo"

[talking]
Hah, haha
That's just the sound of the Hen'..

True Story.. Buddy Roe..
They say tell the truth, Shane and them (uh-huh)
Thank God for the thugs too...


[Chorus: Cee-Lo]
Drop the top and let the sunshine in

With the woodgrain, let the twinkies spin
Get you a glass, mix the !@&@e and the Hen'
It's quite alright, with the 'dro in the wind,

with the 'dro in the wind

[Trick Daddy]

I'm a ol' sneaky, ol' freaky, ol' geechy-ass ^!$$%
Collard green, neckbone-eatin-ass ^!$$%
Always wearin my jeans baggy saggy

You know Florida, Georgia, South Cakalaky
Growed up eatin spam sandwiches
Sugar water and mayonnaise sandwich

Share the room with bout four mo' brothers
But one home for 'em and wattn't no mo' covers
A little bad mother$#&@er (ah-ha)

Always rude and always in trouble
None of my teachers ain't like me (uh-huh)
But make it so bad, Pearl had seven mo' like me

If you growed up the way I did
You gotsta understand, Trick love the kids
(Ooooooohh!) Trick love the kids


[Chorus: Cee-Lo]


[Trick Daddy]
Cut me a seven-treis Chevy, put dubs on that (*##$ (uh-huh)
Candy apple green, ^!$$%z lovin this %#@! (lovin this %#@!)

And wait a minute, I'll act a fool
Ya don't like how I'm livin? (*##$ $#&@ you (uh-huh)
That's right I'm a rude-ass ^!$$%

Quick to do you, cut a fool-ass ^!$$%
Weighin' in at bout a buck six-five
And a ^!$$% can $#&@, plus the boy gets live (that's right)

You know legs, wings, and short thighs (short thighs)
Eat 'em up, beat 'em up, then switch sides


[Cee-Lo]
Hot !@^% work her con-con, Valor to the floor
He oughta enjoy, with the loaded four-four

Be sure and acquire more 'fore ya $#&@ with mine
Disrespect; I'll disconnect ya line
With a sick SWAT, when %#@!'s hot, ya get shot

The fire, the fury, ya $#&@ with it not
Ya stoppin the grace, get out my space and my - face
Fore me and my ace-a lay down the whole place

Recognize, this is the verbalize
Surprise, $#&@in with me wrong way to wise ^!$$%
Hoes, clothes, shows, Vogues, golds

Big ol' bankrolls, that's all a ^!$$% know
Throw yo' elbows, I'm sicker than I suppose
Hoes unchose, cuz my jewelry froze

You know how it goes, these young ^!$$%z don't want it like this
Go off and get yo' gat, to silence the chit-chat, blast!
So pass, outlast, bout cash

Mo' sicky, talk tricky to the trick like trash
Lo realer, a go-rilla, flow for mo' scrilla
Come clean, lookin mean, but you ain't no killa!

(Oooooooooh!) (Trick love the kids!)

[Chorus: Cee-Lo]


[Big Boi]
Look at what we got; the rims and all the 'dro

The 'dro and all the smoke, my throat, it makes me choke
Like a serial killer was squeezin on my throat box
In the cluthces of danger but not a stranger on the block

Is it the cheeferry reefer beat blowin my chest up?
Beat right from the club try my best not to mess up
A professor of this lyrical thang, I'll take the purist strain
of this slang and inject it into your veins
Did your heart stop man? Drop-top fame

Aviator shades with a rear front face
Movin through the dirty at a slow pimps pace
Kinda like the turtle and the rabbit in the race
To the finish line, I jump the pair of Reeboks
So bright, so fresh, snow white but no socks

Then I slipped on some of that O with the wind
I'm bustin straight out the path like a three piece
of va-lac-tic, before you slack it
You gotta prepare it and mack it, when your jack it over tragic
not intended for any illegal purposes'

it's like anthrax and small pox in surplus to murder us
(Ya gotsta understand Trick love the kids!)
(Trick love the kids!)

[Chorus: Cee-Lo]


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