Now kid had to make some moves trying to get his own wheels so he could drive to school
To find the room where mama was hung, her pajamas undone on the working stool
Because there ain't no coming back from that
I like to use the word like magic.
Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring
Stressed like sniping best like exciting blazed like igniting
Without the sound of guns
Advancing like mayans
I'm driving in a stolen truck, and i'm probably fucking drunk
I make the moves, that's why i'm rhyming illegally with dynamic funk,
My ten cent hold your head, don’t let lames bring you down
He gets a great paying job and moves back to his hometown
Fuckin' up my prestige, till i live with the blues
But hows that gonna work out if you ain't tryna make moves?
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