13. Movin In Your Chucks feat. Too Short & Kurupt

Artist: Xzibit
Album: Full Circle
Song: Movin’ In Your Chucks feat. Too Short & Kurupt
Typed by: The crew at the XzibitCentral.com Forums (special thanks goes to Lady Di and Madziool)
Please send corrections to webmaster@xzibitcentral.com

Mov-mov-mov-mov-movin In Your Chucks

[too $hort]
We Come Through Extra Whylin
And Y’all Love It, Who Don’t Like S*x & Violence
You Got A Camera Phone, Send A Picture And A Text
Fiends Want Dough, Tricks Want S*x
B*tches Want Dick, Pimps Want A Grip
Motherf**kers Wanna Know, When You Gon’ Slip
Man You Rich, You Still Kick It In The Hood?
Sellin Coke, And F**kin 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)

[kurupt]
Have You Ever Seen Fluent Flow..
Well This Is How You Do It Though..
Man I Don’t Give A F**k..
F**k It, How I Ride Slide In The Bucket
Trip, I Told This Ni*ga To Hold His B*tch
Come Equipped But Don’t Trip, Ni*ga Mold His B*tch
The B*tch Bomb, I Think He In Posession Of Mine
Cause The B*tch 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 Ni*gaz Lanes And Bustin
I’m Gotti Motherf**ker, Chucks And T’s
Nickels And Semi-automatic Ninas And Beams
I Don’t Really Give A F**k About Your Hood My Ni*ga
I’m Just Tryin To Make All Bad Good My Ni*ga
Got Gators For The Pimpin, Chucks On The Daily
I Ain’t Trippin Off These Busta Ni*gaz B*tches Gotta Pay Me

[chorus]

[$hort] Yeah Beotch!

[xzibit]
Always Poppin That Sh*t Like You Want To
But You Don’t Say A F**kin Thing When I Come Through (beotch!)
I Call The Shot And Somebody Gon’ Touch You
But You Ain’t Even Half A Fag, Ni*ga F**k You (ya Beotch!)
Always Talkin ’bout What A Ni*ga 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 Ni*gaz 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 Ni*ga So Hard That His Head Gon’ Touch His Back
Dog Set It Off, Motherf**k 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, Ni*ga 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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