Move On
Move On

Sadat X - Move On Lyrics

91
Move On Music Video

Move On Lyrics

Check it, check it, check it, the new reign.
Yeah, Wild Cowboys, 1-2-1-2, yeah.
Diamond D, D-I-T-see, the Crates.
Brand Nubian still up in here, no question.
I'm Shawn Black, so stop asking me questions.

This solo thing I'm doin' here is real to me,
The most serious thing in my life, I can say up to this point.
My reputation is at stake, this where the men are mad
Separate, me from the sons put me with the big guns.
My energy now radiates from leads, grow trees.
I'm every time like crime on frustrated black men.
Hey you, and ya buddy, why y'all both need to study.
That my past records shows, my pros is untraceable
Flows will lace that ass, full fold in and
I'm nice now, five years ago way back in the beginning,
When I was runnin' in back yards,
While people was playin' cards
And eatin' barbecue, I'm one of the only few
Sayin' take that pork off ya motherfuckin' fork.
Then they would front and cut out the mic,
And I'd be out on my bike.
Now Lil' Mo was there, Marvin Spark was there;
This is in the eighties now, the start of my long career.

[Chorus]
Move on, black man, move on.
Move on, black man, move on.
New year, same game, same shit goes on.
New year, same game, same shit goes on.

We was young cats playin' Latin quarters;
We was playin' roof top, yeah don't stop,
And I was there at Union Square when KRS-One did his thing.
So why y'all know what I'm bringin' to this ball game.
I got stacks of rhymes and papers and notes,
Lil' phrases written and my catchiest quotes.
I free them Hatians off them boats and give em' the finest ocean liners.
I hate brothers that's walkin' but mentally in recliners.
Hey who's that behind with the plastic and them scanners?
In the year two thousand will ya be on ya manners?
In concentration camps, wet floors and cold,
And population control keeps ya welfare comin'.
No more big fams, Uncle Sam damns,
And this MC Big Brother want the platinum
At your expense, niggas ain't been heard from since.
I walk light and carry the big stick.
Give out my views to blacks and Jews, and whoever choose to get hit
With my shit; I'm like the snowball effect
And why y'all should all stand erect when I pass.
Corporal with the ranch groove style, leadin' profile.
First leave the whole crowd thirsty and wet,
Wild Cowboys leadin' New York and that's my set.
I'm down with Lil' L and my man Akinyele;
I love her but I can't stand her mother.
Me and her brother ain't had the blessings to lead,
Kind of hard that I'm the G-O-D.

[Chorus]

Yeah my rent is due and the phone bill too,
Long distance is dead, got to see ConAir.
All of these bills is risin' in my head,
But wait I got the child support.
Got the car note as the after thought,
Got the school loan then after college that was blown.
Did I forget with my car a lot of tickets I owe?
Now niggas hate, my youth it constantly grows.
Always need clothes, hey that's how it goes.
Word, and my wife, I gotta keep my home life in tact;
Some of her friends try to end me then try to act friendly.
That's that bullshit, yo now that's that bullshit.
Now my crew all money and I'm tellin' em' to hang on,
I'm tryin' to hang but sometimes that don't be workin'.
Niggas talkin' about gettin' a package and goin' down South and murkin'
In Carolinas or to V-A with the stash spot.
Tryin' to hit the jackpot, tryin' to hit the jackpot.

Writer(s): KRISCHAN JAN-ERIC WESENBERG, GUNTHER GERL, UDO HUEPPE
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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