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letra de move bitch (radio edit) - ludacris

move b-tch, get out the way
get out the way b-tch, get out the way
move b-tch, get out the way
get out the way b-tch, get out the way
move b-tch, get out the way
get out the way b-tch, get out the way
move b-tch, get out the way
get out the way b-tch, get out the way

oh no! the fight’s out
i’m about to punch yo, lights out
get the f-ck back, guard ya grill
there’s somethin’ wrong, we can’t stay still
i’ve been drinkin’ and buzzin’ too
and i been thankin’ of bustin’ you
upside ya motherf-ckin’ forehead
and if your friends jump in
“oh girl”, they’ll be more dead

causin’ confusion, disturbin’ tha peace
its not an illusion, we runnin’ the streets
so bye-bye to all you groupies and golddiggers
is there a bumper on your -ss? no n-gga
i’m doin’ a hundred on the highway
so if you do the speed limit, get the f-ck outta my way
i’m dui, hardly ever caught sober
and you about to get ran the f-ck over

here i come, here i go
uh oh! don’t jump b-tch, move
you see them headlights? you hear that f-ckin’ crowd?
start that godd-mn show, i’m comin’ through
hit the stage, knock the curtains down
i f-ck the crowd up, that’s what i do
young and successful, a s-x symbol
the b-tches want me to f-ck them, true true

hold up, wait up, shorty
“oh what’s up? get my d-ck sucked, what are you doin’?”
sidelinin’ my f-ckin’ business
tryin to get my paper, child support suin’
give me that truck and take that rental back
who bought these f-ckin’ tv’s and jewelry b-tch, tell me that?
no, i ain’t bitter, i don’t give a f-ck
but i’m a tell you like this b-tch
you better not walk in front of my tour bus

2-0, i’m on the right track
beef, got the right mack
hit the trunk, grab the pump, punk 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 sh-t outta of security for stompin’ the fight
i got a fifth of the remy, f-ck the belve and cris
i’m sellin’ sh-t up in the club like i work in the b-tch

f-ck the dress codes, it’s street clothes, we all street n-ggas
we on the dance floor, throwin’ bows, beatin’ up n-ggas
i’m from the dec, tryin’ ta to disrespect dtp
and watch the bottles start flyin’ from the vip
f-ck this rap sh-t, we clap b-tch, two in ya body
grab ya four, start a fight dog, ruin the party
so move b-tch, get out the way hoe
all you f-ggot motherf-ckers make way for 2-0
so

- ludacris

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