Lyrics Turn It Out - Milla, Iamsu!

Turn It Out

Bitch it’s your time
And it’s good
Got a big ol' ass like you should
B-bitch it’s your time
And it’s good
Every time I see your ass in my hood
Drop drop it low
T-to the ground
Pi-pi-pick it up slow then turn around
M-make it clap
Th-th-that's the sound
Ass up, face down, go girl turn it out
I’mma tell a bitch straight like that
Why you over here late like that?
If you ain’t fuckin', you ain’t suckin', you ain’t throwin' out the pussy
Bitch I knock it out the stadium, veteran not a rookie
Cut the cake and the cookie
Execution
Put her face in the movie then pass the bitch off to Susie, God
I pray for your forgiveness if I’m out of line
If it’s sixty minutes then she out of time
When I put a mag out she almost ran out
Had to pin her to her man’s couch 'til she passed out
Wake up screamin' fuck her man while we in her man house
If she thinkin' I’mma keep her she runnin' the wrong route
Rather she go south
And fill up her whole mouth
Do chin-ups and deepthroat
Then zip it like pea-coats
Don’t tell nobody
If my bitch find out you don’t want that kind of party, no
Turn it out
Tur-tur-turn it out
Turn it out
Tur-tur-turn it out
Turn it out
Tur-tur-turn it out
Ass up, face down, go girl turn it out
Yeah, get money, stay trill
Ferragamo belt cost eight bills
Young nigga ball like Patty Mills
Stop hatin' on me, let a nigga live
Long afro, no braids
And my current girl go both ways
I’m starin' at the sun homie, no shades
So I can’t see you broke hoes anyway
I’m in the game like EA
Sold out shows nigga, each state
Shorty from Atlanta, that’s the Peach State
Show her how to make bands, no cheesecake
Yeah, hit it 'til the spring break
A whole bunch of girls like spring break, yeah
I was a broke boy but things change
I could show you baby boys like Ving Rhames
Turn it out
Tu-tu-turn it out
Goddamn!