We use cookies to customize content and advertising, to provide social media features, and to analyze traffic to our site. We also share information about your use of our site with our trusted social media, advertising and analytics partners. Read more.

    Trick Daddy / Lyrics

    Playlist 1 Rate 0 Like & Share Print Email Play

    "In Da Wind (Ride Out Mix)" Lyrics

    Trick Daddy feat. Cee Lo Green and Big Boi

    Rank: (−)
    −/5 from 0 users
    Charts: view all »
    Referring urls:view all »



    (feat. Big Boi, Cee-Lo)

    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 Coke 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 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]

    [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

    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!) (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]
    This song was submitted on December 21st, 2004 and last modified on November 23rd, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc..
    Written by Andre Patton, Maurice Young, Phalon Alexander, Phalon Anton Alexander, Thomas Calloway.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Songs you may also like

    • same album
    • same artist
    • popular on LSI
    • new on LSI


    leaderboard activity


    Facebook (0) LetsSingIt (0)