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Big Moe - Move Around lyrics
f/ Mr.3-2, Noke D (*Noke D talking*) Ha, this how we gon do this straight up This goes out to all you bitch ass niggaz Feel that, know I'm saying, know I'm saying I can't have you around me with that bitch shit Straight up nigga, get the fuck away from me Know I'm saying, this Noke D, Noke D's in here Fuck whoever don't like me straight up Run tell that, know what y'all could do for me for real [Big Moe] I'm a rider daddy, let a big nigga breathe You the reason why your girl, keep jocking me Got too many hands, pulling on Big Moe But ain't too many hands, that Big Moe get thoed See I was born, all by myself If it wasn't for the worst, I wonder who would be left Who really gonna hold me down When all the chips, finally hit the ground I had to stop, and look around At all these new friends, I just found Cause when I started out, singing these songs It was me, Screw and a microphone Slanging grey tapes, on Gravestone All night long, sipping pints to the dome Now I'm making hits, getting ghetto bitch Now all these hoe ass niggaz, be up on my dick [Chorus] Move around Get the fuck out my face Move around 'Fore you make me catch a case Move around And get the fuck out my grill Move around And let a big nigga chill [Big Moe] See I finally realize That the whole world is in disguise And all the pain that's in my eyes Came with the fame, and all the lies And all the labels, with these deals All in my grill, telling me about scrill But Big Moe, still got deals Fuck Beverly Hills, I'm still Southsive From the cradle, to the grave To the end of my days I'm still gon get pay-ayed From the block, to the top To the last tick tock All you roaches and you rats, won't stop Hollin' what it do, claiming that you true But I got my eyes focused, on you [Chorus] [Mr. 3-2] Move around, beat your feet and get to walking With all that con game, and fast talking My dogs start barking, and things get ugly Touching boys up, getting rough like rugby I needs my space, so clear my atmosphere You nothing ass fools, better get from round here All up in my ear, I'm trying to holla at this broad But you riding my pitbull, like menage tois Running up on my car, wanting a contract I ain't looking for no acts, but you bout to get slapped To a coma, gone on a, get to stepping Down the yellow brick road, 'fore I pull out my weapon I done told you once, won't tell you twice Move around playboy, shake and roll like dice All that grabs handshakes, all that's fine But it's a place for everything, and partna it's about time [Chorus] Move around Fake ass niggaz, get out my face Move around Better move on down, 'fore I catch a case Move around Fake ass niggaz, get out my grill Gotta move around Let a playa just chill Just chill, get out my grill Old fake ass niggaz Old faaaaake ass niggaz Ooooooh |
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