Max B
Movin’ on Out the Door
[Intro: Max B]
Uh, chyeah
Ooooo, baby, baby
Ladadadada la-dooh
Fuck witcha boy
Max Biggavel, Hollywood Ferg
What's good baby
It's that OFOA, we still here
Let's talk to em, we had to get you on this baby
Uh, chyeah


[Chrous: Max B]
Get the fuck from 'round me
If you not tryna ride my wave, I had to know
How the fuck they found me?
Competition get hit with the K, Imma let it blow
How the fuck could you doubt me?
If you not tryna make it rain, Imma let it snow
Movin' not enough, movin' on out the door-oor


[Verse 1: Max B]
Chyeah, ya chances are slim
Any questions asked you better answer to them
Tap dance on your friend with no shoes
Choose, do what you like
And I don't like to follow rules
Got a hallow tool that'll follow you
Bitches look me dead in the eye
And say "I wanna swallow you", drink it up
N***a I ain't make it up, homie got shot in his dome
I even tried to wake'em up, bouto take him up on his offer
White bitch look like Jody Foster, the all white saucer
Costs us nothing to get it up
Trade in ya Civic, get another truck
You won't get another fuck
I can guarantee thee victory, picture me losin' a cunt
This muhfucka history, get him what he need
Couple gorgeous white tape [?]
He used to have a nice van, damn!
[Chrous: Max B]
Get the fuck from 'round me
If you not tryna ride my wave, I had to know
How the fuck they found me
Competition get hit with the K, Imma let it blow
How the fuck could you doubt me
If you not tryna make it rain, Imma let it snow
Movin' not enough, movin' on out the door-oor

[Verse 2: Hollywood Fergie]
(Hollywood, ayyy!)
Every now and then I feel like giving up
But until then Imma see how to live it up
Bitches wanna give it up, just off a Jee-P
You ancient Indian, so we fucked in a tipi
All eyez on Max, you would think he was T.P
Plus it's [?] game that connect with T.P
Plus Hollywood Fergie here but don't mind me
I'm a glitch in the matrix, but you won't find me
Allegedly, last scene, he was up with Gain Greene
Call me Fergie Lovebug, cuz my pimp game mean
Must admit that imma fiend, only question that I ask
How the hell you get that ass in them skin-tight jeans
You 'mind me of Billie Jean, you are not my lover
'Member when I called you Mami, but you not my mother
Pardon me the Sour Diesel got me geekin', zoning
Won't stop until I get that pussy open, OWWW!
[Chrous x2]
Get the fuck from 'round me
If you not tryna ride my wave, I had to know
How the fuck they found me?
Competition get hit with the K, Imma let it blow
How the fuck could you doubt me?
If you not tryna make it rain, Imma let it snow
Movin' not enough, movin' on out the door-oor
Get the fuck from 'round me