Dr. Kimble (Instrumental Version)

We've got to move these refrigerators
We've got to move these colored TV's
We on the move, Step Brothers
We moving in and we moving them trees

99 bottles of beer, I break all of 'em
Party, choose one of these bitches
I'll take all of 'em
Before I pick up the dice, I shake all of 'em
Money like leaves on trees, I rake all of 'em
Shooters in disguise, you probably mistake all of 'em
Put cookies on a sheet in the oven and bake all of 'em
Till the bottom is crispy
Great Gatsby reflector on the Nautica it's flashy like a strobe light
Royal Dynasty rag wrappin' the dome tight
Locked in the middle of the crosses on my scope sight
I wrap a bundle, know how to package the dope right
You rodeo and can't even lasso the rope right
You hear the sound of a drum if the envelope's light
So when I come to pick up the paper make sure the note's right
Handle dilemma, tunes familiar like the man from Ipanema
Epidemic could spread from the epicenter

You ever notice how they welcome you, invite you to sit
It's like the rich keep waitin' to admire they shit
If we ain't on the same page by now, it's never happening
Decoding all these messages is only for the passengers
Coded for the massacre when it occurs
I ain't condoning it, best believe I'm holding them furs for when it pops off
Days wait, nights even longer
Topped off the stress, trying to make it even stronger
I'm out for this, betting chips, part of the rest
Disrespect, pardon my left
Gary Carter was a part of the Mets (Rest in Peace)
Pardon the cardigan and calling Yvette
Your camaraderie is fake as fuck, hidden in politics
Drowned in hearsay, said I'm on top of it
Said I'm a profit rich and watch the rest go
This ain't cut from a check this is cut from soul
Cut from the dough, now let it go