Released: January 1, 2002
Songwriter: Pusha T I-20 Ludacris
Producer: KLC
[Chorus: Ludacris]
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Oh no! The fight's out
I'm 'bout to punch your lights out
Get the fuck back, guard your grill
There's something wrong, we can't stay still
I've been dranking and busting too
And I been thanking of busting you
Upside your motherfuckin' forehead
And if your friends jump in (Aw, girl!), they'll be mo' dead
Causing confusion, Disturbin' Tha Peace
It's not an illusion, we runnin' the streets
So, bye-bye to all you groupies and gold diggers
Is there a bumper on your ass? (No, nigga!)
I'm doing a hundred on the highway
So, if you do the speed limit, get the fuck out of my way!
I'm D.U.I., hardly ever caught sober
And you about to get ran the fuck over
[Chorus: Ludacris]
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
[Verse 2: Mystikal]
Here I come, here I go
Uh oh, don't jump bitch: move!
You see them headlights? You hear that fuckin' crowd?
Start that goddamn show, I'm comin' through
Hit the stage and knock the curtains down
I fuck the crowd up — that's what I do
Young and successful — a sex symbol
Now bitches want me to fuck 'em — true, true
Hold up, wait up, shorty
Oh what's up, getting my dick sucked, what are you doing?
Besides minding my fuckin' business
Trying to get my paper, child support suing
Give me that truck and take that rental back
Who bought these fucking TV's and the jewelry bitch, tell me that
No, I ain't bitter, I don't give a fuck
But I'ma tell you like this bitch
You better not walk in front of my tour bus
[Chorus: Ludacris]
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
[Verse 3: I-20]
2-0, I'm on the right track
Beef, got the right mack
Hit the trunk, grab the pump, punk I'll be right back
We buying bars out, showing scars out
We heard there's hoes out, so we brought the cars out
Grab the pills 'cause we popping tonight
Beat the shit outta of security for stopping the fight
I got a fifth of the Remy, fuck the Belve and Cris
I'm selling shit up in the club like I work in that bitch
Fuck the dress codes, it's street clothes, we all street niggas
We on the dance floor, throwing bows, beating up niggas
I'm from the Dec', try to disrespect D.T.P.
And watch the bottles start flying from the V.I.P.
Fuck this rap shit, we clap bitch, two in ya body
Grab ya four, start a fight dog, ruin the party
So move bitch, get out the way ho
All you faggot motherfuckers make way for 2-0
[Chorus: Ludacris]
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
[Verse 1: Ludacris]
Oh no! The fight's out
I'm 'bout to punch your lights out
Get the fuck back, guard your grill
There's something wrong, we can't stay still
I've been dranking and busting too
And I been thanking of busting you
Upside your motherfuckin' forehead
And if your friends jump in (Aw, girl!), they'll be mo' dead
Causing confusion, Disturbin' Tha Peace
It's not an illusion, we runnin' the streets
So, bye-bye to all you groupies and gold diggers
Is there a bumper on your ass? (No, nigga!)
I'm doing a hundred on the highway
So, if you do the speed limit, get the fuck out of my way!
I'm D.U.I., hardly ever caught sober
And you about to get ran the fuck over
[Chorus: Ludacris]
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
[Verse 2: Mystikal]
Here I come, here I go
Uh oh, don't jump bitch: move!
You see them headlights? You hear that fuckin' crowd?
Start that goddamn show, I'm comin' through
Hit the stage and knock the curtains down
I fuck the crowd up — that's what I do
Young and successful — a sex symbol
Now bitches want me to fuck 'em — true, true
Hold up, wait up, shorty
Oh what's up, getting my dick sucked, what are you doing?
Besides minding my fuckin' business
Trying to get my paper, child support suing
Give me that truck and take that rental back
Who bought these fucking TV's and the jewelry bitch, tell me that
No, I ain't bitter, I don't give a fuck
But I'ma tell you like this bitch
You better not walk in front of my tour bus
[Chorus: Ludacris]
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
[Verse 3: I-20]
2-0, I'm on the right track
Beef, got the right mack
Hit the trunk, grab the pump, punk I'll be right back
We buying bars out, showing scars out
We heard there's hoes out, so we brought the cars out
Grab the pills 'cause we popping tonight
Beat the shit outta of security for stopping the fight
I got a fifth of the Remy, fuck the Belve and Cris
I'm selling shit up in the club like I work in that bitch
Fuck the dress codes, it's street clothes, we all street niggas
We on the dance floor, throwing bows, beating up niggas
I'm from the Dec', try to disrespect D.T.P.
And watch the bottles start flying from the V.I.P.
Fuck this rap shit, we clap bitch, two in ya body
Grab ya four, start a fight dog, ruin the party
So move bitch, get out the way ho
All you faggot motherfuckers make way for 2-0
[Chorus: Ludacris]
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way
Move, bitch! Get out the way
Get out the way, bitch, get out the way