Big Moe - Move Around Lyrics
f/ Mr.3-2, Noke D(*Noke D talking*)Ha, this how we gon do this straight upThis goes out to all you ***** ass niggazFeel that, know I'm saying, know I'm sayingI can't have you around me with that ***** shitStraight up nigga, get the ***** away from meKnow I'm saying, this Noke D, Noke D's in here***** whoever don't like me straight upRun tell that, know what y'all could do for me for real[Big Moe]I'm a rider daddy, let a big nigga breatheYou the reason why your girl, keep jocking meGot too many hands, pulling on Big MoeBut ain't too many hands, that Big Moe get thoedSee I was born, all by myselfIf it wasn't for the worst, I wonder who would be leftWho really gonna hold me downWhen all the chips, finally hit the groundI had to stop, and look aroundAt all these new friends, I just foundCause when I started out, singing these songsIt was me, Screw and a microphoneSlanging grey tapes, on GravestoneAll night long, sipping pints to the domeNow I'm making hits, getting ghetto *****Now all these hoe ass niggaz, be up on my dick[Chorus]Move aroundGet the ***** out my faceMove around'Fore you make me catch a caseMove aroundAnd get the ***** out my grillMove aroundAnd let a big nigga chill[Big Moe]See I finally realizeThat the whole world is in disguiseAnd all the pain that's in my eyesCame with the fame, and all the liesAnd all the labels, with these dealsAll in my grill, telling me about scrillBut Big Moe, still got deals***** Beverly Hills, I'm still SouthsiveFrom the cradle, to the graveTo the end of my daysI'm still gon get pay-ayedFrom the block, to the topTo the last tick tockAll you roaches and you rats, won't stopHollin' what it do, claiming that you trueBut I got my eyes focused, on you[Chorus][Mr. 3-2]Move around, beat your feet and get to walkingWith all that con game, and fast talkingMy dogs start barking, and things get uglyTouching boys up, getting rough like rugbyI needs my space, so clear my atmosphereYou nothing ass fools, better get from round hereAll up in my ear, I'm trying to holla at this broadBut you riding my pitbull, like menage toisRunning up on my car, wanting a contractI ain't looking for no acts, but you bout to get slappedTo a coma, gone on a, get to steppingDown the yellow brick road, 'fore I pull out my weaponI done told you once, won't tell you twiceMove around playboy, shake and roll like diceAll that grabs handshakes, all that's fineBut it's a place for everything, and partna it's about time[Chorus]Move aroundFake ass niggaz, get out my faceMove aroundBetter move on down, 'fore I catch a caseMove aroundFake ass niggaz, get out my grillGotta move aroundLet a playa just chillJust chill, get out my grillOld fake ass niggazOld faaaaake ass niggazOoooooh
