Lyrics Bout To Go Down - Turk, Big Tymers, Christina

Bout To Go Down

Look, look, look
I done told you once and I’m not gon' say it no mo'
Stuntin in front them hoes sayin what you gon' do
Now nigga, look here, you know you down bad round
Runnin off the mouth, tellin me not to come around
You must be trippin, what you think you Deebo?
I don’t care who you is what you think that I’m a ho?
Never that never was and never would be
I got a gat, I ain’t just totin tryin to see
I’m bout to pull off some mob-type shit
Put a bomb in a letta, send it to ya mom ya bitch
Playin with me, look you better know what you doin partna
Cuz I’m playin for keeps, slip up, nigga I got cha
But I’mma do, you and bet the next nigga don’t try me
I’mma abuse-ya, cut-cha, and burn up ya body
Playin raw like Gotti wrong like Gotti, you wack your ho
And flea off in my Limo-tinted up-Ram
Why you lay that boy down-Cuz he play with me dogg
Why you lay that ho down-Because she play with me dogg
I heard you spray like four round-Off top, yes I did
Turk is bout to go down (fo sho)
It’s bout to go down (fo sho)
Why you lay that boy down-Cuz he play with me dogg
Why you lay that ho down-Because she play with me fo'
I heard you spray like four round-Yes I did, yes I did
Turk is bout to go down, it’s bout to go down
Off top, fuck it I show up at ya block and see
Wit about fifty Glocks
And I pop, pop, pop out my pretty pink drop
Lil shop pumpin rocks up in the parkin lot
Pull up in the light, with a coupe
With a bag, matchin my boots
I ain’t here to be cute, I’m here to bring the truth
But I gotta letcha bitches know exacly how I do
I know bitches be like, «she can’t really fight
Ain’t no ghetto in her», till I put the medal in her
Take her, out of her misery, out of her hell, fuck Shanelle
Shit, I’m down to bring couple of nails
Bitch I touch with out reachin, huss you with out speakin
Up-chick up before bullets start leakin
I locked up and got my poker face on
A.C. and the king, meet yall jokers face on
Chumps get done fuckin with the lady don
Take your arms leave reachless
Shit, I leave you speechless
Tryin to take my mic cuz he slapped u outta reflex
Why you lay that boy down-Cuz he play with me dogg
Why you lay that ho down-Because she play with me dogg
I heard you spray like four round-Yes I did, yes I did
Turk is bout to go down (fo sho)
It’s bout to go down (fo sho)
Why you lay that boy down-Cuz he play with me dogg
Why you lay that ho down-Because she play with me fo'
I heard you spray like four round-Yes I did, yes I did
Turk is bout to go down (off top)
It’s bout to go down
Let’s go
Bitch nigga take that frown down, before we tear it down
Bring it cousin cuz this gangsta shit should have been went down
In the club, high off that fire woodie
Right now, I guess it’s bout time to holla woodie
Didn’t a nigga like to tell ya dead sonny, hundred round
Lay’em down, fuck over’em the nigga ain’t nothin but a clown
Uptown round, he gettin in his car burn him down
Shot callin, I never get my hands dirty
These hands were made for playin hoes and cookin birdies
Off that bottle, I’m bad and I’m nervous
Dick Clint, Big Chief, K-C, ya’ll help me serv’em
Everybody in the project know who choppin and who servin
Cross the court, niggas whisperin and they nervous
Step up comin home, pop a bottle, and cook a birdy
Don’t get it twisted, it’s Cash Money real estate
Platinum bullets, let his family see his fuckin face
Why you lay that boy down-Cuz he play with me dogg
Why you lay that ho down-Because she play with me dogg
I heard you sprak like four round-Yes I did, yes I did
Turk is bout to go down (fo sho)
It’s bout to go down (fo sho)
Why you lay that boy down-Cuz he play with me dogg
Why you lay that ho down-Because she play with me fo'
I heard you spray like four round-Off top, yes I did
Turk is bout to go down (off top)
It’s bout to go down (let's go)