Freeway, Jake One, Birdman - Follow My Moves lyrics
Freeway [Philly Freezer]
[Freeway, Jake One, Birdman - Follow My Moves lyrics]
Yeah nigga n-O, Philly (Philly)
You know? C-M-B, one hundred
I was piss poor
Water used to leak in my place
First we struggled
Then we hustled 'til the paper got straight
Copped weight, plates got scrapped
Then we chopped it up and
Bagged the twelve twelves, five eights
Twenty four
Seven on my Kane shit, +No Half-Steppin+
For protection, kept a weapon on waist
We grind hard, if we happen to catch a charge
Two lawyers, Frank Spina
Lou Savino on the case
They spank that, then we straight
I'm a neighborhood legend
Benz wagon with the hatchback
That was way back, before the contract
My right hand had a red Ac' Legend
And we stay smokin reefer
Havin marijuana sessions
We had y'all bitches gettin high
Catchin contact
Any problem with you guys, nickel nine that
Bring my hood everywhere I'm
At, I define reppin, yeah
We from the bottom, now we shinin with jewels
We keep on grindin and we rhyme
Like we got something to prove
But don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Yeah, we from the bottom and
We grind with tools make money everyday
Candy paint with jewels nigga
Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Fresh paint, Pearl 40
Honey racks on the Harley
On the grind every day
Big mansions and Ferraris
Uptown nigga, where it all started
Big money, big guns out the hallway
Hit the hood in something new
Stuntin every day
Blowin purple haze, with a 100K
With a hundred B's, all stackin cheese
Y-M, C-M-B
With the Louis frames, with the curtains back
In the new Phantom, star light, laid back
Born rich, "Hood Rich", Cash Money, more shit
MOB, UPT, spent a mill' on some keys
Candy leather seats
Project life, tats and fleets
Hundred mill', it's what we eat
Put up, shut up, y'all niggas run up
Tag you with the burner for the +#1 Stunna+
Y'all niggas never had flows like Freezer
Nigga please
You'll never have cheese like Baby
Keys to the Phantom
Not the keys to the Mercedes
"Last of the Mohicans"
I'll be sleepin with the cannon
I wake with it on and quake it on
Whoever's drawn
You play with it on, I stay with it on
Nigga try me, put the cannon to his wig
If he eatin, I am creepin
Bring the cannon to his crib
No doubt, we will go on route
We move out for the money dummy
This is how we live
This is Birdman and Philly Free
We are eatin, gettin money off of words man
Came a long way from flippin birds man
If y'all niggas hatin, just let it be
You know? C-M-B, one hundred
I was piss poor
Water used to leak in my place
First we struggled
Then we hustled 'til the paper got straight
Copped weight, plates got scrapped
Then we chopped it up and
Bagged the twelve twelves, five eights
Twenty four
Seven on my Kane shit, +No Half-Steppin+
For protection, kept a weapon on waist
We grind hard, if we happen to catch a charge
Two lawyers, Frank Spina
Lou Savino on the case
They spank that, then we straight
I'm a neighborhood legend
Benz wagon with the hatchback
That was way back, before the contract
My right hand had a red Ac' Legend
And we stay smokin reefer
Havin marijuana sessions
We had y'all bitches gettin high
Catchin contact
Any problem with you guys, nickel nine that
Bring my hood everywhere I'm
At, I define reppin, yeah
We from the bottom, now we shinin with jewels
We keep on grindin and we rhyme
Like we got something to prove
But don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Yeah, we from the bottom and
We grind with tools make money everyday
Candy paint with jewels nigga
Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n
Fresh paint, Pearl 40
Honey racks on the Harley
On the grind every day
Big mansions and Ferraris
Uptown nigga, where it all started
Big money, big guns out the hallway
Hit the hood in something new
Stuntin every day
Blowin purple haze, with a 100K
With a hundred B's, all stackin cheese
Y-M, C-M-B
With the Louis frames, with the curtains back
In the new Phantom, star light, laid back
Born rich, "Hood Rich", Cash Money, more shit
MOB, UPT, spent a mill' on some keys
Candy leather seats
Project life, tats and fleets
Hundred mill', it's what we eat
Put up, shut up, y'all niggas run up
Tag you with the burner for the +#1 Stunna+
Y'all niggas never had flows like Freezer
Nigga please
You'll never have cheese like Baby
Keys to the Phantom
Not the keys to the Mercedes
"Last of the Mohicans"
I'll be sleepin with the cannon
I wake with it on and quake it on
Whoever's drawn
You play with it on, I stay with it on
Nigga try me, put the cannon to his wig
If he eatin, I am creepin
Bring the cannon to his crib
No doubt, we will go on route
We move out for the money dummy
This is how we live
This is Birdman and Philly Free
We are eatin, gettin money off of words man
Came a long way from flippin birds man
If y'all niggas hatin, just let it be