Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Turbulence, artist - Esham. Album song A-1 Yola, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.09.2008
Record label: Aknu Media
Song language: English
Turbulence |
All engines running, launch commence |
I’m high up in the air, I’m feeling the turbulence |
But when it comes to work, I’m magnificent serving it |
(Esham) |
Street lords to my niggas, cheddar boy, clockin' figures |
Only fuck with the work, just to make my pockets bigger |
Keep my finger on the trigger, of a AK |
Deliver |
One shot to yo dome, I’ll make your whole soul quiver |
Shiver like the cold winter, like Detroit in December |
Yo bitch kept beggin me, to put the dick up in her |
She was riding on it hard, and feeling the turbulence |
I hit it from the back, but she said I was hurtin it |
She told me not to cum, right before I was squirtin it |
I fuckin' get up, right after I do my dirt in it |
I make the bed rock, but my name ain’t Rita Mosely |
Whole ki', 36 Oz.'s, a little whoadie |
Reel Life’s my production, no you niggas ain’t fuckin' |
Wit' nothing that I’m doin' |
I was raised in the ruins |
And I’m high up in the air and I’m feeling the turbulence |
Flying on my magic carpet rockin' a turban, bitch |
Droppin' bombs on mothafuckers well deserving it |
Comin through beatin' down the block disturbin' shit |
Esham possessed by the sons of Saddam |
When I go to sleep, I dream of money, power, and bombs |
Bitch, you better recognize, the boss of the mob |
Niggas soaking all my game up, like Spongebob |
Squarepants no, I don’t dance, I boogie, it’s true |
I cut the head off the devil, and I’ll throw it at you |
Mayday, mayday, throw the coke out on the runway |
If the D.E.A. |
come my way, they gettin' gunplay |
I’m doin' about 100, the wrong way up the runway |
I wish it was a Monday, but it was a black Sunday |
I was high up in the air, and feeling the turbulence |
Jumpin' out of planes, wit' no parachute, on some bird shit |
Flying through the air, with the greatest of ease |
Mens fall to they knees, snitches tell the police |
We be high up in the air, and feelin' the turbulence |
Floating on the black Benz, blowing the purple shit |
Just like the hood, when the ghetto birds circle it |
Infrared search light, I just might murk you bitch! |