'dro In The Wind Lyrics - Big Boi

(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 

Brought up eatin Spam and sandwich 

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, pro'ly had seven more like me 

If you brought up they way I did 

You gotsta understand, Trick love the kids 

(Ooooooohh!) Trick love the kids 

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(Chorus: Cee-Lo) 

Drop the top and let the sunshine in 

With the wood grain, let the twanky spin 

Get you a glass, mix the Coke and the Henn' 

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 when the minute I 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 

Where it at? Bout a buck six five 

and the nigga can't fuck, plus the boy gets live (that's right) 

You know legs when they show thigh(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' wit me real aint wise nigga 

Hoes, clothes, shows, Vogues, golds 

Big ol' bankrolls, that's all a nigga know 

Throw yo' elbows, I'm slicker 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 yo' shit check, 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)