Move

Oh shit. Ah, man
Niggas say "yo, say something at the beginning, nigga, aight"
You know how hard it is to say some shit, when you talk about real shit, nigga
Ya'mean? It's like yo, nigga. Yeah
Oh, we gon', we gon' come to life, nigga
We gon' come to life, nigga. One more time
Rewind that

All this drip, all this money, all these jewels
All my niggas got these bitches like "oooh"
Watch what you say when we kick it
'Cause the shooter lookin' at you like food

You've been on the Gram or Twitter on some
bitch shit talkin' about your mood
But we don't give a fuck, my nigga
Comin' through, fuckboys better move

You lookin' at a winner (Look at me)
Probably go to Hell, got a black Jessica Biel, you lookin' at a sinner
Kiss'll get the bank
Louch'll get the women and I'm laying up the dank

While I'm lookin' for the link (I'm lookin')
Is he talkin' about wipe or a LLC, ya LP
Ignorant nigga, yeah, it's nothin' to tell me (Nothin')
Lookin' classy rockin' Bally's while pushin' a Shelby
Got the Jack Boy elegance, mask is LV

You know when I get on a song I enhance it (Uh)
Monopoly with real money, I'ma chance it (Yeah)
Might lease the Lambo truck or finance it
Scared to death your whole life, you die frantic (Scared)

Plus I'm way smarter than niggas, that's my advantage (Yeah)
Hudson in the crack spot was my Atlantis (Woo)
Young boys takin' them penitentiary chances (Yes)
We was gonna make it no matter what the advance is

Ayo, yo, he ain't want it, and she don't want it
I was thinkin' ' bout them days whenI was drinkin' 'em blunted
Run around with fake niggas I'ma keep it a hundred
I told that bitch she could drown if I ever go broke

I got two niggas to count on, put the L.O.X. sound on
That's silk like gown on, I'ma as old as Calgon
The guns'll pop off
Kidnap, as long as you you got that money to drop off, I'm good (D-Block)

All this drip, all this money, all these jewels
All my niggas got these bitches like "oooh"
Watch what you say when we kick it
'Cause the shooter lookin' at you like food

You've been on the Gram or Twitter on some
bitch shit talkin' about your mood
But we don't give a fuck, my nigga
Comin' through, fuckboys better move

Shout out my niggas that own the spot (What up?)
I could make niggas do dumb shit like Mona Scott
Need Narco money, Pablo and Gilberto (Hey)
Quarter pound of purp, with my nigga, I get you shot (Facts)

Speak of the top five, three of us in the slot (LOX)
Name the other two and I bet you I get 'em popped (Bet you)
Tell Louch and Kiss to spill 'em I bet you I get 'em mopped (Bet you)
Pass me the blade and I bet you I get 'em chopped

It's like this yo, you know the Styles, Sheek and 'Kiss flow
It's unparalleled to anything on mixshow
Sort of like hardcore rap mixed with disco
Strain from L.A. and San Francisco

I'ma smoke most of it, maybe I'll let the zip go (Maybe)
Around a bunch of young, wild niggas that let the clips go (Brrt)
You can guarantee that the shooters'll never miss though
It's either the cheebas, Cohiba or Montecristo

Too much crime, too much time on your hands to explain
Too many menaces to society niggas thinkin' they Caine
Too many new generation rappers thinkin' they Wayne
Like you came up with your own style, that shit is insane

But oh no, oh no, I look like "oh no, he didn't"
Grams on the block where Nas made It Was Written
Kumbaya, this Musafa
The other black president, don don Barrack Allah (D-Block)

All this drip, all this money, all these jewels
All my niggas got these bitches like "oooh"
Watch what you say when we kick it
'Cause the shooter lookin' at you like food

You've been on the Gram or Twitter on some
bitch shit talkin' about your mood
But we don't give a fuck, my nigga
Comin' through, fuckboys better move



Credits
Writer(s): Sean Jacobs, Jason Phillips, David Styles, Vincent J Van Den Ende, Scott Spencer Storch
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link