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    "Move (clean version)" Lyrics


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    [Chorus 2x: Ludacris]

    Move bitch, get out the way
    Get out the way bitch get out the way
    Move bitch, get out the way
    Get out the way bitch, get out the way

    OH NO! The fight's out
    I'ma 'bout to punch yo...lights out
    Get the fuck back, guard ya grill
    There's somethin' wrong, we can't stay still
    I've been drankin' and bustin' two
    and I been thankin' of bustin' you
    Upside ya motherfucker forehead
    And if your friends jump in, "Ohhh gurrlll", they'll be mo' dead
    Causin' confusion, Disturbin Tha Peace
    Since not into lution', we run in the streets
    So bye-bye to all you groupies and golddiggers
    Is there a bumper on your ass? NO NIGGA!
    I'm doin' a hundred on the highway
    So if you do the speed limit, get the fuck outta my way
    I'm D.U.I., hardly ever caught sober
    and you about to get ran the fuck over


    [Mystikal over second chorus]
    Here I come, there I go
    UH OH! Don't jump bitch, move
    You see them headlights? You hear that fucking crowd?
    Start that goddamn show, I'm comin' through
    Hit the stage and knock the curtiensdown
    I fuck the crowd up - that's what I do
    Young and successful - a sex symbol
    The bitches want me to fuck - true true
    Hold up wait up, shorty
    "Oh wazzzupp, get my dick sucked, what are yoouu doin'?"
    Sidelinin' my fucking bussiness
    Tryin' to get my paper, child support soon
    Give me that truck and take that rental back
    Who bought these fucking T.V.'s and jewelry bitches, tell me that?
    No, I ain't bitter, I don't give a fuck
    But i'ma tell you like this bitch
    You better not walk in front of my tour bus


    [I-20 over third chorus]
    Bring it, get 'em

    Too bad I'm on the right track
    Beef, got the right mack
    Hit the trunk, grab the pump pump, I'll be right back
    We buyin' bars out, showin' scars out
    We heard there's hoes out, so we brought the cars out
    Grab the peels cuz we robbin' tonight
    Beat the shit outta security, for stoppin the fight
    I got a fifth of the remy, fuck the Belve and 'cris
    I'm sellin' shit up in the club like I work in the bitch
    Fuck the dress codes, it's street clothes, we all street niggaz
    We on the dance floor, throwin' bows, beatin' up niggaz
    I'm from the D.E.C., tryin' to disrespect D.T.P.
    And watch the bottles start flyin' from the V.I.P.
    Fuck this rap shit, we clap bitch, two in your body
    Grab ya four, start a fight dog, ruin the party
    So move bitch, get out the way hoe
    All you faggot motherfucker make way for 2-0

    This song was submitted on July 21st, 2005.
    Thanks to dominique for the contribution to this song.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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       amy2266 says:
      Like 001-10-2005 18:03