Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Turn It Up, artist - Busta Rhymes. Date of issue: 26.11.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Turn It Up |
| We grind ya’ll |
| Bounce back, open your mind ya’ll |
| Grind your whole ass till you twist your waistline |
| Ya’ll know the time |
| Hey yo feel the base line |
| Stack the overdrive |
| Bounce, baby feel the incline |
| So geniune, everytime, Busta redefine |
| The wicked knew the dime |
| Makin ya’ll press rewind |
| Hope you feelin fine |
| Watch me combine and intertwine |
| The bounce rock skates make you cross the foul line |
| Shine a nickel nine |
| On all kinds of little swine |
| Stick the worst of porcupine |
| If you tryin to take mine |
| Yo, pick up my nigga Splif |
| In the blue 5S's |
| Sportin out tan, interior blue head restses |
| Move, baby no time for second guesses |
| Been articulate the right bounce as the flow finesses |
| Yo we gettin papers spreadin love and happiness’s |
| Shit blazin so hot DJ’s scratch the test presses |
| Like make it mo hot baby *chorus comes in* |
| Turn it up, I wanna hear it real loud, just |
| Turn it up, so we can party in the loft, baby |
| Turn it up, we need to tear the roof off, so just |
| Turn it up, I need to make it mo hot, baby |
| (repeat first three lines, finish with 'Turn it up') |
| Yo, word is bond |
| Baby let’s get it on |
| I never say it wrong |
| Yo baby girl take off your thong |
| Let me put it in your spirit like the holy Kyron |
| Got the mega song |
| Sweet like honey chicken dijon |
| Movin along |
| Yo, honey body look real strong |
| Watch your ass swing |
| Hangin like a medallion |
| Exercise baby let me see you spread on the floor |
| What you askin for? |
| Relax, I’m bout to give you some more |
| Where the liquor store? |
| Hit you with some more metaphor |
| The raw, hot to def shit you never seen it before |
| Hit the deck, on your mark, get set, we bout to jet |
| Spark it like ingelet, chickens breakin their neck |
| Yo we play to win |
| Such a shame, shit is a sin |
| So hot baby body heat bubble your skin |
| Everytime I flow speak |
| I caress the whole beach |
| Just like the body guard Les straight walkin the street |
| We get down |
| Verse Three: |
| Yo, come on baby just feel my heat wave |
| A lot of hot ones ready for niggas that act brave |
| Chill son, you better off if you behave |
| Flip money while broke niggas tryin to save |
| Lay low, I say so, my pesos |
| Import my cheese stack by the castros |
| Make clothes |
| Or stay fly a chase hoes |
| Equatorians soft lips and straight nose |
| Makin dough |
| When we rippin the paid show |
| Get the money and dip, we in the Range Rove |
| Now we makin grands |
| We name brand |
| We make plans, change plans |
| Then we expand across land |
| Do it properly |
| Yo, I said open sesame |
| The recipe, be the hot shit, it’s got to be Yo, landscape |
| We arrange a whole shape |
| Rock the fly tape |
| Then I continue to skyscrape |
| Like blah!!! |
| So hot |