Farid Bang - Follow My Moves lyrics

[Intro - Birdman - talking] Yeah n***a N-O, Philly (Philly) You know? C-M-B, one hundred [Verse 1 - Freeway] 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 sh**, +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 b**hes gettin high, catchin contact Any problem with you guys, nickel nine that Bring my hood everywhere I'm at, I define reppin, yeah [Hook - Freeway] We from the bottom, now we shinin with j**els 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 [Birdman] Yeah, we from the bottom and we grind with tools Make money everyday, candy paint with j**els n***a Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n Don't follow me, follow my moves young'n [Verse 2 - Birdman] Fresh paint, Pearl 40, honey racks on the Harley On the grind every day, big mansions and Ferraris Uptown n***a, 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 sh** M.O.B., UPT, spent a mill' on some keys, candy leather seats Project life, tats and fleets Hundred mill', it's what we eat [Hook] [Verse 3 - Freeway] Put up, shut up, y'all n***as run up Tag you with the burner for the +#1 Stunna+ Y'all n***as never had flows like Freezer n***a 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 n***a 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 n***as hatin, just let it be [Hook]