Movin' in Your Chucks - Xzibit feat Kurupt, Too $hort

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

[Too $hort]
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
B_tches want d_ck, pimps want a grip
Motherf_ckers wanna know, when you gon' slip
Man you rich, you still kick it in the hood?
Sellin coke, and f_ckin b_tches real good?
Don't let 'em fool ya, these b_tches 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 b_tches slangin, lootin, hookin, recruitin
Work the credit cards, stealin, cookin, shootin

[Chorus: Too $hort - repeat 4X]
To all my pimps (sli-sli-sli-slidin in your gators)
And all my gangsters (gangsters movin-movin in your chucks)

[$hort] Beotch!
(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 f_ck..
F_ck it, how I ride slide in the bucket
Trip, I told this n_gga to hold his b_tch
Come equipped but don't trip, n_gga mold his b_tch
The b_tch bomb, I think he in posession of mine
Cause the b_tch is tryin to put my d_ck on top of her mind
I'm too G'd up to play games with bustaz
Got somethin to start trippin n_ggaz lanes and bustin
I'm Gotti motherf_cker, Chucks and T's
Nickels and semi-automatic ninas and beams
I don't really give a f_ck about your hood my n_gga
I'm just tryin to make all bad good my n_gga
Got gators for the pimpin, Chucks on the daily
I ain't trippin off these busta n_ggaz b_tches gotta pay me


[$hort] Yeah beotch!

Always poppin that sh_t like you want to
But you don't say a f_ckin thing when I come through (beotch!)
I call the shot and somebody gon' touch you
But you ain't even half a fag, n_gga f_ck you (ya beotch!)
Always talkin 'bout what a n_gga 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 n_ggaz 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 n_gga so hard that his head gon' touch his back
Dog set it off, motherf_ck 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, n_gga 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

[Chorus] - 2X

[$hort] Beotch!
(Mov-mov-mov-mov-movin in your chucks)

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