Mov-mov-mov-mov-movin in your chucks

[Too $hort]

We come through extra whylin
And y'all love it, who don't like sex & violence
You got a camera phone, send a picture and a text

Fiends want dough, tricks want sex
(*##$es want dick, pimps want a grip
Mother$#&@ers wanna know, when you gon' slip

Man you rich, you still kick it in the hood?
Sellin !@%!e, and $#&@in (*##$es real good?
Don't let 'em fool ya, these (*##$es 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 (*##$es 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 $#&@..
$#&@ it, how I ride slide in the bucket
Trip, I told this ^!$$% to hold his (*##$

Come equipped but don't trip, ^!$$% mold his (*##$
The (*##$ bomb, I think he in posession of mine
Cause the (*##$ 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 ^!$$%z lanes and bustin
I'm Gotti mother$#&@er, Chucks and T's

Nickels and semi-automatic ninas and beams
I don't really give a $#&@ about your hood my ^!$$%
I'm just tryin to make all bad good my ^!$$%

Got gators for the pimpin, Chucks on the daily
I ain't trippin off these busta ^!$$%z (*##$es gotta pay me


[Chorus]

[$hort] Yeah beotch!


[Xzibit]
Always poppin that %#@! like you want to

But you don't say a $#&@in thing when I come through (beotch!)
I call the shot and somebody gon' touch you
But you ain't even half a !@$), ^!$$% $#&@ you (ya beotch!)

Always talkin 'bout what a ^!$$% 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 ^!$$%z 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 ^!$$% so hard that his head gon' touch his back
Dog set it off, mother$#&@ 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, ^!$$% 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)