Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Turn Me Up (feat. Kendrick Lamar), artist - Ab-Soul. Album song Long Term 1 & 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 05.04.2015
Record label: AAA
Song language: English
Turn Me Up (feat. Kendrick Lamar) |
| Yeah, come come now |
| Soul brother number two, I’m the one now |
| Sun up to sun down, still kickin' that shit |
| Put your gun down |
| I come in peace like a extraterrestrial being |
| Eat me a meteor and walk across the moon barefeet |
| But don’t nobody rhyme like this no more |
| Call me the 2010 Rakim |
| I got soul, there’s more in store |
| Feel like a CVS, open 24 |
| Spent nights tryin' to overshadow my shadow |
| For niggas tryin' to block my light like a solar eclipse |
| I bring a knife to a fist fight and when I cut a record |
| So when I cut the cheese, shit you know what it is |
| Mr. Absoulutely the most incredible at this |
| So adjust your bass, your treble and then |
| Yo, turn me up some |
| Yo, turn me up some |
| Yo, turn me up some |
| Turn me up some, turn me up some |
| Finna break this blunt down and burn me up one |
| Then sip on this Remy 'til it turn me up some |
| For me it’s more difficult to be simple than it is to be complex |
| As a lot of apartments |
| You niggas comedy, I’m laughing at you probably |
| We are not the same, there’s no strand of monotony |
| Between you and I until we die |
| Revelations say you either fry or fly |
| And it’s hard to find God when you ain’t never seen Him |
| It’s pie in the sky and there’s bodies on the cement |
| And I know you lookin' at me like, «You don’t speak English» |
| I bring the heat like a phoenix, a son under Phoenix sun |
| And I’m rootin' for the Lakers when they play the Phoenix Suns |
| I ain’t really into sports, that’s just where I’m from |
| Long Term Two |
| And if it’s in your possession then follow the directions my dude |
| Come come now |
| Pac told me fuck the world, I’m 'bout to cum now |
| I’ve been a pro, but now I’m profound |
| Propane on posers, restraining from the doja |
| Imagine if I smoke, I probably come up with a «e |
| So heavy you’ll forget every album you heard from Hova |
| Or 2pacalypse I’m Hub City’s novelist |
| Come and get your scholarship, I’m taking kids to school |
| A pool full of spit, dive in, I’m 'bout to drool |
| You’ll drown trynna backstroke on concepts that I wrote |
| I was a black sheep, but now I’m just a goat |
| And I’m 'bout to elope, married to the game joe |
| This is hip hop at its finest, where’d you find this? |
| In a Ziploc |
| Til the wheels fall off, fuck a pit-stop or what not |
| Where my tear drop? |
| I murdered it |
| My pot-holes is turbulence |
| I’m in the sky wit it |
| When you listening to Kendrick, just |
| This for my niggas that really rap all night |
| No sleep, do it with your eyes closed |
| I can see your vision from Del-Amo |
| Poppa took the television, but left the radio |
| Ill niggas, wack niggas, what’s the ratio? |
| Is this shit degrading or inspirational? |
| I’ll have you know I must’ve wrote about a thousand rhymes, a thousand times |
| I give you my word |
| Cause I just gotta be heard |
| I just gotta be heard |
| I just gotta be heard |
| Said I gotta be, yes sir I gotta be |
| Heard, heard, heard, heard |