Hah, haha
Thats just the sound of the Hen..
True Story.. Buddy Roe..
They say tell the truth, Shame the Devil (uh-huh)
Thank God for the thugs too...
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
Its quite alright, with the dro in the wind,
with the dro in the wind
Im 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 wattnt no mo covers
A little bad motherfucker (ah-ha)
Always rude and always in trouble
None of my teachers aint 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
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, Ill act a fool
Ya dont like how Im livin? Bitch fuck you (uh-huh)
Thats right Im 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 (thats 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; Ill disconnect ya line
With a sick SWAT, when shits 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, thats all a nigga know
Throw yo elbows, Im sicker than I suppose
Hoes unchose, cuz my jewelry froze
You know how it goes, these young niggaz dont 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 aint no killa!
(Oooooooooh!) (Trick love the kids!)
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, Ill 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
Im 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
its like anthrax and small pox in surplus to murder us
(Ya gotsta understand Trick love the kids!)
(Trick love the kids!)
|
