Lyrics Turn Up Time - Cymphonique

Turn Up Time

I’m talking pocket full of rubber bands
Pocket full of rubber bands
Take it, pitch it, throw it
Blow it like a ceiling fan
We still in here, we still in here
We ain’t going nowhere, we chilling here
We still in here, we still in here
We ain’t going nowhere, we chilling here I’m talking
Pocket full of rubber bands
Pocket full of rubber bands
Take it, pitch it, throw it
Blow it like a ceiling fan
Keep it pouring, keep it, keep it pouring
Keep it pouring, we ain’t living til the morning Ohhhh, want you to turn on the
lights
So they can see me tonight (Turn up!)
Ohhhh, DJ turn it up, crank it all the way up
Ohhhh we in VIP balling, VIP, VIP balling
(What we doing?)
Oh yeah, pockets on fat, got everybody
Turn up time, turn up time
Turn up time, turn up time
I’m talking pocket full of rubber bands
Pocket full of rubber bands
Take it, pitch it, throw it
Blow it like a ceiling fan
Turn up time, turn up time
Turn up time, turn up time Grill all gold, tell shawty come here
Grill all gold, tell shawty come here
I can make it rain, I can, I can make it rain
I’m talking waterfalls, pleasant hurricanes
I can make it rain, I can, I can make it rain
I’m talking waterfalls, pleasant hurricanes
We just killed the club… Keep it R.I.P
We balling like a pro up in VIP We still in here, we still in here
We ain’t going nowhere, we chilling here
We still in here, we still in here
We ain’t going nowhere, we chilling here
Ohhhh, want you to turn on the lights
So they can see me tonight (Turn up!)
Ohhhh, DJ turn it up, crank it all the way up
Ohhhh we in VIP balling, VIP, VIP balling
Ohhhh yeah, pockets on fat, got everybody
Turn up time, turn up time
Turn up time, turn up time No Limit is the team, No Limit is the team
Yeah, everybody valid, got they pockets full of green
Turn up time, turn up time
Turn up time, turn up time
I’m talking pocket full of rubber bands
Pocket full of rubber bands
Take it, pitch it, throw it
Blow it like a ceiling fan We still in here, we still in here
We ain’t going nowhere, we chilling here
We still in here, we still in here
We ain’t going nowhere, we chilling here
I’m talking pocket full of rubber bands
Pocket full of rubber bands
Take it, pitch it, throw it
Blow it like a ceiling fan