 Thug Holiday » Lyrics [+ Shtoj +] |
1. _ In Da Wind
[Talking: Trick Daddy]
Hah,
That's just the sound of the Hen'..
True Story..(Dade, Dade, Dade, Dade)
Ya'll know we called..
Thank God for the thugs too...(Buddy Roe)
[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
[Verse 1: Trick Daddy]
I'm a ol' sneaky, ol' freaky, ol' geechy-ass nigga
Collard green, neckbone-eatin-ass nigga
Always wearin my jeans baggy style
You know Florida, Georgia, South Cackalack
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
[Verse 2: 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
[Verse 3: 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 M.I.A. (miami) 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 knows
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]
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
[Verse 4: 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]
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
more free lyrics |
2. _ Who's Selling (Skit)
(Door creaks)
[Talking]
Hey what dat is? You, hey you hear dat shit?
Damn dog. I know it aint what I think it is.
Hey man, hey hey, you sellin' Trick Daddy CD?
Yes, no no no.
So what the hell is that?
Thats a..a..marengae.
That mother fucker lyin' man.
Oh Marengae? So no Trick Daddy?
No
You like Trick Daddy?
Yes
But you not sell any Trick Daddy?
No
OK, good good, my friend.
The nigga lyin' man, he lyin'.
(Door closes)
Fuck Trick Daddy, I needed my money.
more free lyrics |
3. _ Gangsta
ft. Baby, Scarface [Trick Daddy] And the winner is, Trick Diesel Facemob My nigga Baby, ha ha Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta [Chorus] You know me, 'T' double, you know I'm a G Cuz I keeps it gangsta, gangsta, gangsta gangsta, gangsta than a motherfucker But it was like you, you a pussy nigga But I keeps it gangsta, gangsta, gangsta gangsta, gangsta than a motherfucker [Trick Daddy] Went to a eight ball from a dime piece Ship dat, flip dat, bought a nine piece in five weeks Shit lookin' good but I think slammin' Me and my dawg passed up bought a block and a half Sellin' O's or betta clockin a fag Bout four, five slugs and we was bustin' they ass Gotta keep my bread in a safe place We up with my hitchens in undisclosed locations Hey yo I got the llello, you got the money Try nothin' funny and I don't buy dummies Every ounce betta bounce back And every brick that I break up It all betta flake up And when that shit hit the waters Shit go to ballin' That dope all betta fall in I bought coke back on 84 Back when wood used to get them bricks from the Birdo And when I hit him I want to hurt him And on cutlass I wanna hit it They ass gon' feel it [Chorus] [Baby] Ay, ay, ay, ay It's the kid wit the bricks taped up in the grill Mmmm Hmmmm Cadillac that is Wit that rag top bubbly E class burnin' rubber You the number 1 stunna ma show a lil somthin' Ay, ay roll a lil somethin' Mmmm Hmmmm blow a lil somethin' I got them thangs for a lil nothin' If you got a lil money I'ma throw a lil somethin' Bump this nigga Mmmm Hmmmm fuck you nigga We aint from 'round here dumpin' on niggas But ay Trick Daddy battle up for this nigga Well let me get to my hustle (hustle) I got bricks, grams, and bundles (bundles) I got ki's in the muffler Birdman daddy CMB motherfucker [Chorus] [Scarface] Face mob, right back at ya With O's like cookies I flip like spatulas 99.9 of the time I'm on the grind Bricked up and breakin' em down I got to admit the dope game gravy 3 zippers balled up you bring back 80 You learn to swell you might see double Remember you can't sell bubble So here it is fool I play the game where its no rules Givin' you lessons from the old school You don't get high off your own supply And when a motherfucker cross you make sure he die Make the next man know he got to think about the payback This shit go deeper than me rapping or me say that Ask my nigga Trick Daddy, ask my nigga Baby Been like that since the early 80's [Chorus] more free lyrics |
4. _ Thug Holiday
ft. LaTocha Scott [talking] Thug holiday, go ahead you can cry this up right baby Everything gone be gravy later, that's right This the time when we take time to remember All the loved ones we lost in the struggle you know I dedicate this to my brother Hollywood, Toby, Bam My dog Itchy and Lil Trav, I dedicate this to the struggle Everybody in the county jail, state penn, check it out [Trick Daddy] Here go one for bad luck, hell against that a nigga wouldn't have none But when I think about it, what would I be without my gun How could I, get away from the po-po's, if a, nigga couldn't run And how was I given a daughter when I always prayed for a son Life is crazy ain't it, sometimes I even think the same thing I've been waiting on freeing the ring hell but ain't a thang changed And I lost my brother in the struggle, and then he lost his mother And I'm thinking about it who's mine's who gone raise my brother Not to be a thug, stay in school, don't use drugs Who'll teach him right from wrong and show them boys, true love So I pray for the better days, face the bomb had a run-a-ways And, I put my guns away and I pray for peace on Sundays, it's crazy ain't it [Chorus: Latocha Scott] Just like the soldiers, that ain't coming home this year Just like the fellas, in prison, we miss you so much for real What about the children, who ran away, that ain't coming home today Well here's a message from coast to coast Cause when them thugs really need it the most a thug holiday Just like em, just like em, just like em, a thug holiday - [2x] [Trick Daddy] Here go one for, all these killings and all these conflicts in religion See the mothers, Jews and Christians but know they are all God's children There's only, one him, plus ain't none of y'all confronting him So blind in our own minds we wouldn't even know God if we confronted him And, I read your books know all your remixes to the bottom What about a, verse for the thugs curled with drugs and survival That's asking chapels naming Martin, Malcolm and Faricon In all my history books, only one died was the Americans And, that's point of my, who's responsible for Vietnam And, hold on there's more, we had two World Wars And, how come the judges make more than the teachers is making When they the ones raising all the taxes and got us fighting for education Life is crazy ain't it [Chorus] So many tears, through out the years Somebody tell me what's going on And so many liiives, but only God knows About the pain deep inside It gets so hard, you got to keep your head up I know you're fed up, but stay strong Here's a message from coast to coast Cause when them thugs really need it the most, thug holiday Just like em, just like em, just like em, a thug holiday - [2x] [LaTocha Scott] This is for my people in the ghetto I'm calling out, calling out To all my thugs in the ghetto Calling out, calling out It gets hard sometimes, but you Got to keep your head up, and be strong Here's a message from coast to coast Cause when them thugs really need it the most, a thug holiday [ad-libs] more free lyrics |
5. _ All I Need
[Trick Daddy Talking]
People gots to have it, MONEY! Haha
Gangsta, just like that (just like that). Haha
My recipe for murda (murda):
~Couple pounds of brown (pounds of brow)
~Couple DPs (couple DPs)
~Four, five of them big things they call Choppers (echo).
[Verse One: Infa-Red]
See I was raised in the slums
Where nigga tote guns
[Corus: Infa-Red]
See, all I need is big guns on the side of me.
‘Bout that half a brick a day and a pound a weed.
Straight do or die bitches that’ll die for me.
How many niggas down to ride with me?
All I need is big guns on the side of me.
‘Bout that half a brick a day and a pound a weed.
Straight do or die bitches that’ll die for me.
How many niggas down to ride with me?
[Verse Two: Trick Daddy]
The reenactment of my first murder (murder).
With no remorse and no feelings, hell cuz I didn’t even know this nigga.
The shit was deep, I couldn’t just let it go.
While I was shootin’ ‘bout my money, I was flootin’ ‘bout my dough, bitch.
I bust his ass like the last mother fucker
Went in with them sluggies came out them cutters, cut up
You should’ve seen the mother fucker jumpin’ dumpin’
Bullet after bullet, pumpin’ fully after fully
You mother fuckers want them bad choppers, I still got ‘em
That nigga begged for his life, but I still shot ‘em
I let them know bitch this is how I feel ‘bout ‘em
I asked him not but now his mama ‘bout to hear about him.
I’m from the area of the Goodfellas you know?
Niggas like Big Ike, Big Nose Bob, and Bo Dilly
I growed up on the turf watchin’ Murph and them
Murph dropped the top on the ‘vert, that nigga was hurtin’ them
I take this shit back to 30’s and gold
See, that way before them Bama’s hamers and lows
That’s in the days when the Arabs was jumpin’
Every nigga was getting’ money
Every corner was pumpin’ and jumpin’
But now we in the new era
A new game, a different thang, and a whole bunch of new killas
Money, money, money. Everytime!
God damn it I said its murda!
[Corus: Infa-Red]
See, all I need is big guns on the side of me.
‘Bout that half a brick a day and a pound a weed.
Straight do or die bitches that’ll die for me.
How many niggas down to ride with me?
All I need is big guns on the side of me.
‘Bout that half a brick a day and a pound a weed.
Straight do or die bitches that’ll die for me.
How many niggas down to ride with me?
more free lyrics |
6. _ Play No Games
[Chorus - 2x] I ain't really here to play no games girl You already know my name yeah Freaky deaky cause it ain't no thang yeah B-ba-da-da-da-da [Trick Daddy] You see the part of making busta ass niggas you been fucking with Always busting shit, but never talking shit Any of us tell you don't think that a playa did it And made you wear the life is more than a hell didn't it Boy I tell you, and that's the deal with them real niggas And stay far away from fuck niggas Don't be a sucka at least not for nothing are you Sucking and fucking, a bitch better have something I need something that's compatible Not nothing young and dumb and full of cum but wanna letable I better, nigga like T Double, get it wetter Suck her fuck her better than the average nigga I need a girl that's into trying thangs So I can put her into my frame, and land in the mind game I know she's a mama girl and I'm a street nigga Once we get together, I bet you she'll sleep better [Chorus - 2x] [Trick Daddy] Baby girl it's better to keep it thugged out Ain't nothing like it when you, scratching and biting only gets me excited She like, T Double why you fucking with me I done came three times and you still sucking on the first titty I'm like girl you better work it better Like the full moon in June but pretty soon I'll be hurting it Now turn around, let me calm you down We go up and down, real niggas puts it down I'm getting aquainted with the clitoris I keep my hands to my sides, while I slowly spread the lips I eats it up, 'fore I beats it up The first quarter slow motion, second half, speed it up Plus she already owe me one, she like Nevermind, but this time we 69ing I need my dick sucked C.O.D. This is T Double D I get my dick sucked O.D.P. [Chorus - 2x] [Trick Daddy] Being that I'm missing you, been having fantasies of kissing you I get the picture, I piss you but what I'm suppose to do Or could it be that I'm falling in love Or a possibility I'm way too far for a thug I'll never tease you, I'm here to please you And baby girl believe it, girl I'll never leave you I'll be your freaky deaky lover man Making love forever trying all the god damn numbers When we, rubbing and touching eachother Oh my god it's getting hard and you getting wetter and wetter It's getting better and better, wish it could last forever But never never, nothing I ain't worried girl [Chorus - 4x] more free lyrics |
7. _ 'Dro In The Wind
ft. Big Boi, Cee-Lo [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... [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 [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: 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] more free lyrics |
8. _ Shut Yo Face (Uncle Fucka)
ft. Trina [Terrance and Phillip] U-N-C-L-E fuck you, Uncle Fucka....Do right! Hey, hey ugh Slip-n-slide, nigga... [Chorus x2] Uncle fucka whatcha say? MOTHERFUCKER! Shut yo fucking face [Verse 1, Trick Daddy] Everybody wanna be the big boy Sling king with the biggest names in the game In the wood grains big grins big chains big things on the big mane Motherfuckers done lost they brain This shit ain't fun, the bullshit ain't done Gonna have to get the gun now, gotta learn how to run now Cuz you the one now That they be talking bout when they hanging out Trying to play ya how to drain you out Two shots rang you out, tried to slide in the game, you out Think it's the game about, sheit Ask or repeat anybody you know used to be big back in the day They probably been in the grave or ?? from the heat of the cage Them niggas is dead [Chorus x2] [Verse 2, Trina] Did I approve for you to talk to me? Motherfuckers like you, hell, I preach it to 'em First hand I teach 'em no psychic, bitch, hell I reach it to 'em No bus no fuss dogg, no sucks in the Lex, dogg Don't see no checks dogg, and stop beggin when it's wet, dogg But you could bet dogg That you don't know no hoe that'll hide the work Two clips inside the purse, fuck me I'ma ride you first fuck hard till the condom bursts, but umm... I need my ???? Lee tight figero White gold with the X and O's You putas betta know Trina is a betta hoe Oh you don't know? [Verse 3, Trick Daddy] Y'all betta quit fucking with me, I ain't got too much to lose I got a lot to prove, so fuck motherfuckers and hoes Gotta get the dough, save it up till I pay my dues And break the rules, Motherfuckers that is trying to hold me down Think you can hold me down Hoes didn't know me, bet they ass know me now Since I'm in Dolby now Bitches, I play with 'em and hoes, I lay with 'em And women, I just kiss 'em while unzipping they denims And run up in 'em [what] These bitches they all the same These bitches they all for change These bitches got game [Chorus x2] [Verse 4, Trick Daddy] If it ain't 'bout bread, save that Broke bitches wanna know why I say that If the going price is right and not too high Goddammit, I'll pay that I want two or three or four of 'em So um, I could get my nigga to throw 'em See my hoes horny get my flow on With dough you can't go wrong I roll with killas, niggas that count the dough and know Never to trust a hoe, thug niggas That'll shoot yo ass, excecute yo ass My overtime niggas be grabbin it My doggs on the bow ain't having it Plus down south niggas got AK's 'Cuz when you raise the day you be savages [Chorus x4] more free lyrics |
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