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Trick Daddy Thug Holiday In Da Wind Trick Daddy feat. Cee-Lo 'Dro in the Wind [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... see! [Trick Daddy] I'm a ol' sneaky, ol' freaky, ol' geechy-ass nigga Collard green, neckbone-eatin-ass nigga 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 motherfucker (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] Drop the top and let the sunshine in With the woodgrain, let the twinkies spin Get you a glass, mix the Coke and the Hen' It's quite alright, with the 'dro in the wind, with the 'dro in the wind [Trick Daddy] Cut me a seven-treis Chevy, put dubs on that bitch (uh-huh) Candy apple green, niggaz lovin this shit (lovin this shit) And wait a minute, I'll act a fool Ya don't like how I'm livin? Bitch fuck you (uh-huh) That's right I'm a rude-ass nigga Quick to do you, cut a fool-ass nigga Weighin' in at bout a buck six-five And a nigga can fuck, 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 whore work her con-con, Valor to the floor He oughta enjoy, with the loaded four-four Be sure and acquire more 'fore ya fuck with mine Disrespect; I'll disconnect ya line With a sick SWAT, when shit's hot, ya get shot The fire, the fury, ya fuck 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, fuckin with me wrong way to wise nigga Hoes, clothes, shows, Vogues, golds Big ol' bankrolls, that's all a nigga know Throw yo' elbows, I'm sicker than I suppose Hoes unchose, cuz my jewelry froze You know how it goes, these young niggaz 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!) [Chorus: Cee-Lo] Oooooooooh! Oooooooooh! [repeat Chorus] |
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