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Текст (слова) песни: Youngbloodz - Thangs Movin Slow



Yeah, attic crew, attic crew and cooley c my nigga

Yeah, yeah, my nigga, its attic crew and cooley c my nigga

Yeah, youngbloodz, youngbloodz and cooley c my nigga

Um, mark twayne

Now its time to let yall nigga know about me

Oh I can get mo money, mo money, dont come to me

And everything I say that be on the blow

Rap for the love of money, stack it up once mo

Going once, going twice, got the o for the low

Got my cheese in the soil, tryin to make my flow grow

Hell no, never fall off

Slip pimpin, you can get it hard or get it soft

All day, round the clock tryin to get it in

I aint worried bout the rich, cause Im in the wind

All I got is my folks, lord forgive me for my sins

And if this aint for me, please make me thank again

Gotta get my shit right, tight like these gurls draws

Let me recognize the game, and all the flaws

While Im out here, please let me come up

And watch my every step so I dont have to duck

Never wanted this, damn how a nigga stuck?

Hit me on the hill nigga, Im a sack it up

Rabbit on my head all day for good luck

On the hustle everyday, but who really gives a fuck

Hook

So what you got, when you aint got nothing to show

Thangs movin slow, cant get your hands on no blow

Aint got no flow, naw, need some quick cash

If hustlin is the answer nigga, get up off your ass

I walk about the crib, with my mind on the dough

Been hustlin these verses, aint got a damn thang to show

I keep my head up, because I feel its bout to pop

Done heard about a deal going down at the dock

Critics say it dont stop, til you get it and its gone

Its all about the fett, set it off, get it crunk

You catch me on the corner, Ill be buddy with the sacks

Off in the studio it be twayne with the tracks

Fire, fire, like that dope gettin smoked everyday

Got a call from my source, he on the way with the llell (yeah)

Coming in from overseas, bout 82 kis

Not a word to be said, everybody hit your knees, lets leave

Get the cheese, make away with the blow

Slip in the door, right before we do the show

Mr. dope man, your looking kinda sick

Thangs movin slow now that you aint got shit

Hook

So what you got now, you out of luck

Sellin your soul to the devil, just to make a quicker buck

But for what, you took a chance, recieving half of some blow

And pushing them quarter kis underground to keep the flow

Its toe to toe, we can take it to the deepest of the seas

And anybody else who wanna bite, then try a piece

Of these youngbloodz, bustin 30 slugs, so just perhaps

You crawlin out of a shell

Finding ways up out these traps

Like craps, you out to gamble, losing everything you own

And still like to pretend as if this game gonna keep em known

And do know, you in a ball of burning hell

So might as well take a ride on the weed into the a-t-l

And niggas swear we outdone and out-gunned

So whats the first attempt when they got you on the run

With fun, they shootin tons of shots, so whose to blame

Nobody but yourself as you hold inside the pain

Hook

 

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