: Move on, your time has come, Wipe your tears with no regrets, Go ahead, no looking back. The last years were not all right, But now you get your shit
Move on, your time has come, Wipe your tears with no regrets, Go ahead, no looking back. The last years were not all right, But now you get your shit
brother .. went to jail, i'm showing all the picture and my .. he hit me with a letter, i know you never fail, so put me on a beach with a pocket on the
that (Musique) In the club party rock look up on your girl She on my jock non stop When we in the spot Booty move away like she on the block
on top of me Aayooh I'm tired of using technology I need you right in front-- of me In her fantasy, there's plain to see Just how it be, on me, backstrokin
: I've learned to let go Come on Here's a middle finger Coming straight from oca-l-a I appreciate your judgement it's proved that I can't trust a word
you heard me You say (ya heard me), I say (ya heard me), He say (ya heard me), I know you heard me, she say (ya heard me), everybody like it when I say
Now keep it movin, move around, get off me Now keep it movin, move around, get off me (bip) Now keep it movin, move around, get off me (bip) Now keep
not let me catch you slippin cause wherever we meet I'm a smash ya broad day light or around the club I'm a get at ya if you let me tip down on you nigga
Chorus] [Verse 2 - Paul Wall] Move out the way baby boy here I come I'm the topical discussion like that boy Vince Young I'm on the boulevard holdin'
weight it, cook it, move it, believe what I tell ya That's why street niggaz dap me (dap me), my hoes wann hug me (hug me) My mexican plug love me 'cause
bumpin [Verse 1] if you could catch me not strapped nigga you good come out the house without the pistol I wish I would haters would love to catch me
spots Situations when I ain't know if I am die or not So you don't gotta ask me why I act like I act But if you hating' on me I'd be forced to react I
Wobble on the wall Twurk it how she twurk it While she work it, girl ya body picture perfect Uh bend it over fa me, let me tickle ya middle Girl, I'm
the street stops bumpin [Verse 1] if you could catch me not strapped nigga you good come out the house without the pistol I wish I would haters would love to catch me
