Move On Lyrics By Wiz Khalifa
Man, I ain't encourage my brother to do nothing fucked up
Man say, Wiz, your money retarded
If the bitch don't fuck with her, she missing our bliss
Bitch
'Sup on the dance floor?
Popping, hold up, stop talking to me, tryna see that ass bop
She a big booty slut on the dance floor
Popping, hold up, stop talking to me, tryna see that ass wobble
I'm rich, we're both grown
Gotta mail me your boyfriend at home
I'm too high, I'm too gone
If she don't ride with the kid, I move on
I'm just tryna find someone I can leave with
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm just tryna find someone I can leave with
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh
I ain't really playing with you, don't know your name
I'm just tryna do some things to ya, take ya home
Bet you rep Taylor Gang, let you roll up a plane
Let you bring your homegirls, let me boys run a train
I'm a real ass **** outta Pittsburgh
She don't fuck, I don't deal with her, know ya heard
Good dick what I slang, I don't even run game
I've been learned my lane, hoes fucking up for fame
Hop in my ride then I go front backside
To the side, got my money, she love that
Rolling weed in first class, Taylor Gang, ****
All about his cash, smacking lil' mama on the ass
I'm rich, we're both grown
Gotta mail me your boyfriend at home
I'm too high, I'm too gone
If she don't ride with the kid, I move on
I'm just tryna find someone I can leave with
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm just tryna find someone I can leave with
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh
I done threw a ring around my dick and my finger, ya dig?
I done threw some bling around my grill and my pinky, ya dig?
Your girl end up leaving with me, you ain't a freak or your friend
Gates slang, I'm gonna throw that meat in her stomach for real
Audi, Mustang, Dually Truck, I just wrecked the Chevelle
Flipped it with my wife the other night, give a fuck, can you tell?
Kevin, it's your pipe, well out in public, won't notice she yell
Keep that on the tuck, no recognition, I'm touching them bells
Give them to myself off the truck or they come in the mail
Big booty something on the dance floor popping
Hold up, stop talking to me, tryna see that ass wobble
Big money pocket, got the lumps, Kevin got dollars
I'm rich, we're both grown
Gotta mail me your boyfriend at home
I'm too high, I'm too gone
If she don't ride with the kid, I move on
I'm just tryna find someone I can leave with
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm just tryna find someone I can leave with
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh
