Big Moe

Big Moe - Move Around lyrics

rate me

(feat. 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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