Dro In Da Wind (ride Out Mix)

[Chorus: Slip-n-Slide]

Drop the top and let the sun shine in

Slip-n-Slide and we at it again

T Double D and a couple of friends

it's quite alright with that 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: Slip-n-Slide]

[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!) (Trick love the kids!)

[Chorus: Slip-n-Slide]

[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: Slip-n-Slide]