Mad Skillz - Move Ya Body lyrics

rate me

On the real, I freak techniques and beats in my sleep

The mack back in action show skills when I speak

Watch my - leak when I bring it to your face

I still corner dimes, but in the nine I'm on a paper chase

Glass rocks, mega tops, Tims on your block

Holding heat like crock pots and keeping g's in my socks

(So, what's up, hopps?)

I got to keep it tight like seams

'Cause ain't no fiends

Coming in between me and my dreams

See what I mean, black?

I keep it real like that

F a "word is bond"

I need stocks and bonds from these ill raps

Rappers won't see me with contacts, friend

So, please act you've got a Siamese twin and think again

'Cause in the end I start off with flavor

Next to bless your chest with freestyle fantasia

Smooth behavior

Seeing rappers as illusions

Meaning they disappear but I'm hear to keep you moving

chorus:

Everybody, move ya body!

Everybody, move ya body!

Everybody, move ya body!

I don't think twice, kid

You know I bring it to ya live

(repeat)

See, I don't get writer's block

Yo, I block other writers

And there's been nights I had to wear sniper attire for biters

Don't make that same mistake and get scarred, retard

I see that tape you listening to got you thinking that you hard

But dig this...

Cut your hair and get your name on your stomach

I still find ways to make your whole rap career plummet

Maintain

I steal mics out of the frame

But now people think they know me 'cause they know my real name

While I stay same

Doing shows and tours

Somewhere in a phat crib(?) playing Sega in the dashboard

Styles of sword(?) and flowing steadily

Trapping MCs in mazes forever like Frankie Beverly

You know the steeze

I'm bringing beats to they knees

Holacausting MCs and sees some g's before I breath

That's how it be

It's no doubt that I

Got to bring it to your chest as I bring it to ya live

chorus

So, from this point on until the day that they bury me

I'll still be on a hunt trying to snatch this currency

Putting my peeps on while friends turn fake

They get pissed thinking I be in Switzerland checking some real estate

Dropping LPs every year

Somewhere in a mansion with a butler named Vincent Jeffrey Belvadere

I'm rare

But, rappers ain't trying to hear

The reason why their girl freestyled her number in my ear

It's my year, son, and I ain't trying to slip

I'm trying to collect props and get not(?) to stretch money clips

Honey-dips

I keep 'em on like low end

So, f five-o

Illegal, so we don't got to go there

It's so unfair

How I do wack crews shady

They want to be next up

Their style sucks like a new baby

They can't faze me

Mics and man fusion

Beats I keep bruising

Do your thing and keep moving

chorus

(repeat twice)