[Verse 1: Bobby Capri]

Uh...Yeah

A lot of people 'round the way feel I made it

And I don't get it cause they acting like I'm obligated

To give 'em something, maybe make a car payment or two, I think they thinking that my neighborhood's gated

It would all be negated though, if they seen the way that

I was living out a bag, apartment in the basement

It's hard being famous in a small town, full of small minds

Big fish, small pond. Still it's all mine

For the time being. But all this sightseeing

I've been doing lately, got my mind going. I've been thinking

What if I leave? Where would I be?

They say the grass on the other side is never as green

I mean, What...none of my neighbors ever water their yard? Shit, I kind of find that hard to believe

I know the apple never really falls far from the tree, I'm in the orchard unfortunately...unfortunately

[Hook: Bobby Capri]

Yeah, I'd rather ask you forgive me

Than to ask you to give me

I ain't got the time to wait around for the answer that your ass gon' give me

Shit, the moment could be over that quickly

And I gotta make...moves, I gotta make moves

Yeah, I gotta make...moves, I gotta make moves, moves, moves, moves

[Verse 2: Bobby Capri]

It's like I said "Fuck Pac!" cause I always thought "BIG"

Don't put me in a box. Not 'til I'm dead

And even then, I'll be cremated. I've earned (urn'd) that

I've come too motherfucking far to ever turn back

Cause if I did, I'd see a bunch of turned backs

Like I'm sitting on the back of the bus

With all their shirts in plain view, with their names on 'em. I can name who every passenger was

I've been playing them away games, them charade games

Cause the way that I be moving, make 'em say things

Trying to guess what I'm doing. But I know I got 'em lost though

Pictionary with Picasso. But I'm so

Rembrandt. Just a motherfucking realist

On some real shit, man fuck who in their feelings

Aye, nobody's gonna want it how you want it

When you hungry, they don't feel it in their stomach

That's real shit

[Hook: Bobby Capri]

Yeah, I'd rather ask you forgive me

Than to ask you to give me

I ain't got the time to wait around for the answer that your ass gon' give me

Shit, the moment could be over that quickly

And I gotta make...moves, I gotta make moves

Yeah, I gotta make...moves, I gotta make moves, moves, moves, moves

[Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs]

Yeah, I'd rather ask you to "give me"

Than to ask you forgive me

Black mask and a semi

I know the lord walking with me

But the devil got me thinking I need more, and I done had plenty

I know I'm wrong for the dope dealing and robberies

She smell the smoke, so fire up the dope when my momma leave

I used to bag up a hundred nicks at my momma crib

Them sucker n****s I blasted, know where my momma live

So duck and hide from this homicide

Can't find a job to get a n**** over, cause I'm under qualified

Under investigation, and undereducated

Tell a snitch n**** "Thank you for your cooperation."

But bitch I gotta make moves

Before you break your pockets, motherfucker break rules

The hollows in my motherfucking 40 break bones

I gave his ass a chopper party, sent his ass home

[Hook: Bobby Capri]

Yeah, I'd rather ask you forgive me

Than to ask you to give me

I ain't got the time to wait around for the answer that your ass gon' give me

Shit, the moment could be over that quickly

And I gotta make...moves, I gotta make moves

Yeah, I gotta make...moves, I gotta make moves, moves, moves, moves