It’s that time againFrankie mo**erf**kin’ PFergie, come out and playMove your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Ooh)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Skrrt)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Ooh)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stayDiamonds all on my gums (Gums, yeah)Talk all my shit, I got runs (Runs)Hole in my jeans like I’m Grunge (Grunge)F**kin’ that bi**h in the buns (Buns)She suck on my dick ’til it’s numb (Yeah, numb)Pockets is fat like the clumps (Clumps)Rappers is lookin’ like lunch (Lunch)I’m makin’ a meal when I munch (Let’s go, woo)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving she tell me to stay (Ooh, ooh, yeah)Got a new loft in Harlem, you know, Fergie ain’t move to L.A (Woo)Burberry on my collar (Ooh), diamonds, they still in my face (Woo)You don’t want no problems (Ooh), Fergie be settin’ ’em ablaze (Ooh)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Ooh)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Skrrt)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Ooh)Move your hips, okay
When I be leaving, she tell me to stayAll of you bi**hes is foodIf you the opps, you gon’ be singin’ the bluesFeelin’ like Bishop in JuiceWord to my dude, this Jimmy Choo on my shoesAll of my ni**as is makksThis is a fact, this ain’t no cap (-ap)All of my bi**hes is bad, word to my dadThey know we get to the bagMove my hips, okayTell him to go, then I tell him to stay, heyBaby, it’s okay, I have been having one hell of a day, yaySaint Laurent all on my shades, then I pull up in a cherry Mercedes, yayStrawberry shortcake hair, Chinese bangs with my two braids, ayyStraight from out of Queens headed to Harlem nowI got the panda mink on and it’s growlin’ nowAlready bodied Plain Jane and we mobbin’ nowThat’s ’cause all these fake ni**as try to rob my styleYo, these bi**hes really be slow, tell ’em I’m Billy the G.O.A.TI’m getting that dough, my neck and my wrist really glowMy model bi**h all up in VogueAll up in Vogue, put on my Versace robeStreak in my hair like I’m RogueNi**a, you know, you better not tip on your toesThey grippin’ the .40 below (Ah)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Ooh)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Skrrt)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay (Ooh)Move your hips, okayWhen I be leaving, she tell me to stay
