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YOUNGBLOODZ - Thangs Movin' Slow Lyrics

Yeah, attic crew, attic crew and cooley c my niggaYeah, yeah, my nigga, it's attic crew and cooley c my niggaYeah, youngbloodz, youngbloodz and cooley c my niggaUm, mark twayneNow it's time to let y'all nigga know about meOh I can get mo money, mo money, don't come to meAnd everything I say that be on the blowRap for the love of money, stack it up once mo'Going once, going twice, got the o for the lowGot my cheese in the soil, tryin' to make my flow growHell no, never fall offSlip pimpin', you can get it hard or get it softAll day, round the clock tryin' to get it inI ain't worried bout' the rich, cause I'm in the windAll I got is my folks, lord forgive me for my sinsAnd if this ain't for me, please make me thank againGotta get my shit right, tight like these gurls drawsLet me recognize the game, and all the flawsWhile I'm out here, please let me come upAnd watch my every step so I don't have to duckNever wanted this, damn how a nigga stuck? Hit me on the hill nigga, I'm a' sack it upRabbit on my head all day for good luckOn the hustle everyday, but who really gives a fuckHookSo what you got, when you ain't got nothing to showThangs movin' slow, can't get your hands on no blowAin't got no flow, naw, need some quick cashIf hustlin' is the answer nigga, get up off your assI walk about the crib, with my mind on the doughBeen hustlin' these verses, ain't got a damn thang to showI keep my head up, because I feel it's bout to popDone heard about a deal going down at the dockCritics say it don't stop, til' you get it and it's goneIt's all about the fett', set it off, get it crunkYou catch me on the corner, I'll be buddy with the sacksOff in the studio it be twayne with the tracksFire, fire, like that dope gettin' smoked everydayGot a call from my source, he on the way with the llell' (yeah)Coming in from overseas, bout' 82 ki'sNot a word to be said, everybody hit your knees, lets leaveGet the cheese, make away with the blowSlip in the door, right before we do the showMr. dope man, your looking kinda sickThangs movin' slow now that you ain't got shitHookSo what you got now, you out of luckSellin' your soul to the devil, just to make a quicker buckBut for what, you took a chance, recieving half of some blowAnd pushing them quarter ki's underground to keep the flowIt's toe to toe, we can take it to the deepest of the seasAnd anybody else who wanna bite, then try a pieceOf these youngbloodz, bustin' 30 slugs, so just perhapsYou crawlin' out of a shellFinding ways up out these trapsLike craps, you out to gamble, losing everything you ownAnd still like to pretend as if this game gonna keep em' knownAnd do know, you in a ball of burning hellSo might as well take a ride on the weed into the a-t-lAnd niggas swear we outdone and out-gunnedSo what's the first attempt when they got you on the runWith fun, they shootin' tons of shots, so whose to blameNobody but yourself as you hold inside the painHook
 

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