Movin' In Your Chucks

Mov-mov-mov-mov-movin in your chucks

We come through extra whylin

And y'all love it, who don't like sex & violence

You got a camera phone, send a picture and a text

Fiends want dough, tricks want sex

Bitches want dick, pimps want a grip

Motherfuckers wanna know, when you gon' slip

Man you rich, you still kick it in the hood?

Sellin coke, and fuckin bitches real good?

Don't let 'em fool ya, these bitches ain't innocent

They'll change the game and make the gangsters start pimpin women

He don't want her, she's just a decoy

You've gotta use her, you know hoes love the d-boy

So let 'em do ya, put them hookers to work

You want to save the hoe, so he took her to church

These bitches slangin, lootin, hookin, recruitin

Work the credit cards, stealin, cookin, shootin

To all my pimps (sli-sli-sli-slidin in your gators)

And all my gangsters (gangsters movin-movin in your chucks)

(Mov-mov-mov-mov-movin in your chucks)

Have you ever seen fluent flow..

Well this is how you do it though..

Man I don't give a fuck..

Fuck it, how I ride slide in the bucket

Trip, I told this nigga to hold his bitch

Come equipped but don't trip, nigga mold his bitch

The bitch bomb, I think he in posession of mine

Cause the bitch is tryin to put my dick on top of her mind

I'm too G'd up to play games with bustaz

Got somethin to start trippin niggaz lanes and bustin

I'm Gotti motherfucker, Chucks and T's

Nickels and semi-automatic ninas and beams

I don't really give a fuck about your hood my nigga

I'm just tryin to make all bad good my nigga

Got gators for the pimpin, Chucks on the daily

I ain't trippin off these busta niggaz bitches gotta pay me

Yeah beotch!

Always poppin that shit like you want to

But you don't say a fuckin thing when I come through (beotch!)

I call the shot and somebody gon' touch you

But you ain't even half a fag, nigga fuck you (ya beotch!)

Always talkin 'bout what a nigga gon' do

But you a hoe so nobody don't believe you (yeah beotch!)

Lightin it up for the world to see

The return of Mr. X to the Z, damn

To my niggaz in them Cadillacs, swingin that battle axe

A million dollars every 90 days, imagine that

My habitat is black, ramsacked with heavy gats

Hit a nigga so hard that his head gon' touch his back

Dog set it off, motherfuck them haters

I keep on pimpin for my paper in my now or later {gators}

Made my mark for my spark, terror tear you apart

You better have you some heart, comin out here after dark

If you gon' start you must finish, nigga handle yo' business

Because you spoke like a menace you got sent off to the dentist

I don't be goin back and forth like, full court tennis

We gon' handle what we gon' handle, have you walkin in sandals

In a hospital robe, back of yo' body exposed

I stay in militant mode, I staple holes to your clothes

Because it's one for the hustle, two for transition

For my brothers in position still cookin in the kitchen

Beotch!

(Mov-mov-mov-mov-movin in your chucks)