| Yeah
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| Come on
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| Uh
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| I got two turntables and a microphone
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| Keep the place jumping 'til the lights come on
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| Call your wife and tell her you ain’t making it home
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| You’re too drunk to drive and you’re way too stoned
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| Trying to find the biggest guy in the bar and smack him
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| Got a belly full of Jameson and Bud Light Platinum
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| It’s on, set 'em up for a few more rounds
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| An Irishman may wobble but he don’t fall down
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| So when I come through (Move!)
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| Tell your bitch and your friends too, it’s best you (Move!)
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| See I’m not in the best mood
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| What’s up dude? |
| (Move!)
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| You got something to prove?
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| Then go ahead and make a (Move!)
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| And I’mma show you how I do
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| This is not a cartoon, get your sitcom cancelled
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| On arrival 'cos you’re liable to get hit with an anvil
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| Catch me outside I’ll be handing out samples
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| All night, no threats, but I’ll make an example
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| Who’s next?
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| Hurry, hurry step right up
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| Who’s next?
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| I can’t keep my big mouth shut
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| Who’s next?
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| I know I’m not a gangsta but
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| Speak the wrong words man and you will get touched
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| So get ready to (Move!)
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| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
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| And get fucked up, yeah
|
| Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yay
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| Somebody called the cops I gotta make an escape
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| See the crowd wouldn’t move so I threw a grenade
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| Yeah it’s a tragedy but I don’t let it ruin my day
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| You can call me every name 'til you’re blue in the face
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| But my pockets' green like a Saint Paddy’s parade
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| I be getting shitcanned all day everyday
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| So don’t go against the grain, just do what I say
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| So when I tell your ass (Move!)
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| Everybody start jumping
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| When I say (Move!)
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| Just follow instructions
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| Everybody just (Move!)
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| With a smart-ass hook
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| Now put your hands up (Move!)
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| You’re not as stupid as you look
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| Now your boys getting hot
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| Haters all on my trail
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| 'Cos I don’t do a mic check
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| Unless the check’s in the mail
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| Trying to do it like me
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| But the comparison’s pale
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| 'Cos even if my raps suck
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| It’s still catchy as hell
|
| Who’s next?
|
| Hurry, hurry step right up
|
| Who’s next?
|
| I can’t keep my big mouth shut
|
| Who’s next?
|
| I know I’m not a gangsta but
|
| Speak the wrong words man and you will get touched
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up, yeah
|
| Wanna love you in
|
| Wanna love you in
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| Wanna love you in every way
|
| Goddamnit you stop that shit now
|
| Now wait a minute, wait a minute, hey man
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| Wait a minute
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| Hey yo, dip-dip diver spit your saliva
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| Drink my face numb and smack my Uber driver
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| Cold getting dumb and dumber all summer
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| Dump on all comers and trump your front runner
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| South California boy tried to warn ya
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| Running up on you like Prefontaine
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| Nike’s on my feet, Divine Styler on the beat
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| Boy I still eat off the House of Pain
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| So just sit down
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| Shut the fuck up
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| If you’re looking for a problem boy you lucked up
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| And if you’re wearing truck jewels better tuck up
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| 'Cos I know a lotta fools’ll get you stuck up
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| Don’t try to blame me when the Jamie’s talking
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| Boy you kind of bore me 'til you’re walking
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| Before I start pulling out blades and shillelaghs
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| Puffing on bomb life, sipping on Bailey’s
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| Who’s next
|
| One shot is never enough
|
| Who’s next
|
| I just drank a whole bottle for lunch
|
| Who’s next
|
| Swinging wild but I’m landing 'em flush
|
| Speak the wrong words man and you will get touched
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up
|
| So get ready to (Move!)
|
| And get fucked up, yeah
|
| Wanna love you in
|
| Wanna love you in
|
| Wanna love you in every way |