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Lighters Up

de Trick Daddy

feat. Cee-Lo
[talking]
Hah, haha
Less the south love to hear it.. (bang)
True Skerm.. Buddy Rolls..
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 made 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 wrong and always in trouble
None of my teachers ain't like us (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

[Chorus: Cee-Lo]
Drop the top and let the sunshine
With dope 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]
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, wings, and short thighs (short thighs)
Beat 'em up, eat 'em up, then switch sides

[Cee-Lo]
Hot (?) 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 you hit, 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]

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