a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

robb bank$ - move (out da way) lyrics

[intro]
uh+uh, b+tch, uh
femto, yea+yeah
big ssett, uh huh
yeah, swea’ (yea)
broward county, i promise you
yeh+yeah
yea+yea+yeah, yea+yeah (yeah, another one, ‘nother one)
hol up, i’m like

[verse 1]
who you n+ggas is, where you n+ggas stay? (yeah, yeah)
yall ain’t cut like that, and i’m tailor+made (yeah, facts)
you gon’ cuff the thot, i already slayed (yeah, yeah)
right outside the truck, i seen a n+gga layed (grrt, bap)
touch [?], leave it on the front (don’t touch me)
10 up on the spot, 20 on the spot (turn the beat up)
let the glocks bust, it got your heart rushin (seizure)
head concussion, [?} like russia (rawr, rawr, rawr)

[chorus]
i be like move, move, move (wok wok)
get out the way (yuh)
move the bricks, i get out the ye’ (rawr, raaah)
i got two more clips to get out and spray (yuh, yuh)
i got all blue tips stuffed in that k (yuh, yuh, yuh)
and i’m like whoa whoa whoa, with your hand in my face (b+tch)
van dym, tryna hop out the egg (yuh, yuh)
she went to stanford, but ain’t really the brains (yeah, swea’)
got the answers, don’t question what i say (boop boop boop boop, wokkk)

[verse 2]
got a camgirl with a backpage (yeah, facts)
she use a backdrop when i f+ck her face (uh, wha)
ascot around my hickies like fred, yeah (b+tch)
[?], you still in 10th grade
30 clips are better, 100 clips are better, yeah, uh
call me mayweather, call me mayweather (uh, yea)
chariot on you, cursed b+tch, chain leather
i feel like fred durst with the red fitted, aw, yahh
most valued player, i don’t do [?]
i made that solar flare, comin at the ginyus
i’m on the iron throne, i don’t talk to peasants
this ain’t a quiet storm, i’m category 7

[chorus]
i be like move, move, move (wok wok)
get out the way (yuh)
move the bricks, i get out the ye’ (raahh, raaah)
i got two more clips to get out and spray (yuh, yuh)
i got all blue tips stuffed in that k (yuh, yuh, yuh)
and i’m like whoa whoa whoa, with your hand in my face (b+tch)
van dym, tryna hop out the egg (yuh, yuh)
she went to stanford, but ain’t really the brains (yeah, swea’)
got the answers, don’t question what i say (boop boop boop boop, wokkk)

- robb bank lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS