Lyrics Turn On - Soulja Boy, NBA OG 3THREE

Turn On

Say look, lil' baby, won’t you stay home?\nGotta stack my chips, I got them coins for your payphone\nNo NFL, but I’m like a quarterback, won’t you go long?\nAnd she like «Stop, boy, you been playin' a lil' minute»\nGirl, I’m like «Woah, kemosabe»\nI’m up in the pussy, hittin' like tennis\nI’m tryna put you out your body\nThis ain’t no cap, bitch, I’m wearing a fitted\nI just wanna know, is you a real rider?\nYoung nigga, he straight up out them trenches\nJust want you with me, fuck what you hiding\nCall a young nigga to pull up in a Bentley\nNigga said fuck a Masi'\nGot a bad bitch with me\nBaby, I just want your body\nA nigga reachin' for my chain\nNigga, I’m gon' catch a body, yeah\nEvery day we cashed out, you know rich niggas ball\nInside the mall, Christian Dior\nYeah, you see the money fall\nDrop top in the Bentley, yeah the plug keep callin'\nYoung nigga with them sticks, yeah, we the trending topic\nAnd whatever she want, I got it\nShh, you ain’t gotta talk about it\nGirl, I like the way you do that\nSlide 'round in the 'rari\nYeah them big racks, we run through that\nHundred K, I’m back in\nYou know a young nigga been blew that\nShe like the way I do that\nThem choppas, push your shit back (Them choppas, push your shit back)\nI like the way you turn that bass on (I do)\nSay look, lil' baby, won’t you stay home?\nGotta stack my chips, I got them coins for your payphone\nNo NFL, but I’m like a quarterback, won’t you go long?\nAnd she like «Stop, boy, you been playin' a lil' minute»\nGirl, I’m like «Woah, kemosabe»\nI’m up in the pussy, hittin' like tennis\nI’m tryna put you out your body\nThis ain’t no cap, bitch, I’m wearing a fitted\nI just wanna know, is you a real rider?\nYoung nigga, he straight up out them trenches\nJust want you with me, fuck what you hiding\nYou with a real nigga, so don’t you worry 'bout no fucking drama\nI got a good vision, so don’t you come here with no fucking problems\nAnd I got a red beam just to spot that motherfuckin' drama\nAnd you know my eyes green, so you know this 4KTrey, lil' mama\nBitch, where your Visine?\nShit, all you see is them fuckin' commas\nThis ain’t no Wock' lean, but I think you high like a fuckin' rasta\nI seen you in my dreams just sucking on this baby bottle\nGirl, you just turned me to a fiend, I want you in my pocket\nWe hit the road, I’m tryna run out all your fuckin' mileage\nI don’t pay for tolls, but if you was a ticket, I’d fuckin' buy it\nDon’t trick on no ho, but you can go’n get a couple dollars\nDon’t know what you know, but I could treat you like a fuckin' scholar (Treat\nyou good)\nI like the way you turn that bass on (I do)\nSay look, lil' baby, won’t you stay home?\nGotta stack my chips, I got them coins for your payphone\nNo NFL, but I’m like a quarterback, won’t you go long?\nAnd she like «Stop, boy, you been playin' a lil' minute»\nGirl, I’m like «Woah, kemosabe»\nI’m up in the pussy, hittin' like tennis\nI’m tryna put you out your body\nThis ain’t no cap, bitch, I’m wearing a fitted\nI just wanna know, is you a real rider?\nYoung nigga, he straight up out them trenches\nJust want you with me, fuck what you hiding