Half-A-Mill - Groove On lyrics

Verse 1: (Half-a-Mil) Spark up the trees to the street anthem Firm lounge in the Hamptons on beach Mansions Rich kids got reasons for expansion, sippin' scotch on Yachts We used to hold drops, chop O's to rocks Left the spot when it's hot until the snow dropped Now we rock gators low top More Christal to pop Manifest the raw style of Hip-Hop Put rap inside a ziplock Put the map inside a kickbox Let the ship stop, finesse the best Roley wrist watch Hold a brick for every tic-toc Load fifths, let the clip drop You try to get props? f** around and get your wig popped You'd be better off pumpin' my sound In the Navigator jeep, b**hes jumpin' around Skunk by the pound, illin' with pretty Women from outta town Half-a-Mil up in ya system spittin' wisdom rounds Up in ya club gettin' down Doin' the hustle and the bus stop spinnin' Women 'round When in doubt I hear the sounds The illest sh** around Show and prove Chorus - This music makes you wanna move, get ya groove on, this music Makes you wanna groove, get ya groove on. (repeat 2X) Verse 2: (AZ) It's all love, empty out the bar, Benz car Islam, rised to his own, n***as been large Guns blow, when you hear shots run low Playas know, paper chase, stack, play it low Iced out, club nights, cut the lights out Rush ya wifes house, get her whole fam wiped out Quiet storm type, real rich, n***as wan' bite All for all on mics, don't make me have to show you the light Verse 3: (Half-a-Mil) I'm all for this dough, like the rap Ross Perot Born to blow, on the low, on the corner for dough Flashin' gold, ice Rol, could've been on life parole The greatest story ever told, life is cold A hyper soul with a mic I'm a pro- Fessional, unquestionable Pushin' Four Lex's too Be with mean chicks that like Sexist dudes Push V's incredible, more degrees than Medical Smoke trees on schedule Chorus 4X Verse 4: (Half-a-Mil) We be the crowd movers n***as is slick but we smoother Maneuever like two Rugers The type of kid to have a chick holdin' a brick between her two hooters I used to ride fixes, now I fly in Sixes Camouflage, survival of the fittest Grand God, America's the land of ours They band God from the planet hard From the landin' of the Ark To the sparks that brought light out of the dark Simulated Hip-Hop, bring the mics out in the park MC's used to rap to get props Now we'd rather get Yachts And ma**ive knots, crash drops Cash crops, we came a long way from crack rock It's been a long day You know how many n***as went the wrong way? Well hey, I'll still be the God livin' in Ellhay Feel me?, we're never guilty Super hoes milk me, schiest matters k** me White knowledge healed me For real G, it was predicted in the end Wise Men will acsend lyrically Visually picture me Stick wit' me in this World of mystery You kiddin' me? I'd rather puff Sensee, empty M3's out of MP's Rock mics, 'cause I can rip these and get G's Whip Bentley's from the Projects to NC Show and prove Chorus 4X