| I know more like a bag of green, nigga I guess that’s your dream
|
| 'cause I’m unplugged and I might bleed, just
|
| Sometimes I just can’t hear it turn it up, up, up
|
| Tired of running bulls eye,
|
| gotta get outta sight for your eye
|
| Gotta be down 'fore we die, we die
|
| I just came here to turn it up. |
| up. |
| up
|
| Turn it up. |
| up. |
| up
|
| Hypnotize, otherwise
|
| Haters see through telephone wires
|
| Stay focused I bet a 50 cannibal on that desert eagle
|
| Keep it all old school like a regal
|
| Often times, let it bend
|
| Bitches on the sidewalk watching as that dick gets pinned
|
| Hit the switch, ride slow, drop it til it’s parking flames
|
| Gangstas doing gangsta thangs, fuck you and that sitch you claim
|
| All your bitches really lame, talking shit never walking shit
|
| Lonely clip, had no grip, rep my hood and never quit
|
| Oh my goodness, all that goodness,
|
| East side, left brain left no order
|
| 5, 8 deep is triple threat
|
| Wanna see somebody get wet, somebody get snapped
|
| But go away, didn’t i say but go away
|
| Very deep that’s where it stays
|
| Bitch I told you never play
|
| I know more like a bag of green, nigga I guess that’s your dream
|
| 'cause I’m unplugged and I might bleed, just
|
| Sometimes I just can’t hear it turn it up, up, up
|
| Tired of running bulls eye,
|
| gotta get outta sight for your eye
|
| Gotta be down 'fore we die, we die
|
| I just came here to turn it up. |
| up. |
| up
|
| Turn it up. |
| up. |
| up
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| Fire-breathing, dropping ether diarrhea
|
| when I let it spray, eating through your speakers
|
| My procedure is to devastate
|
| Fever when I’m reaching for that heater make you levitate
|
| Reaper with the cleaver, smoking reefer when I meditate
|
| And when I kick is a sickness, got ya’ll addicted to wicked shit
|
| Leave your scene with no witnesses
|
| Witness power ridiculous
|
| Skip the vowel for wickedness
|
| Just like hours of fitness
|
| Screaming louder than bitches
|
| but taking part of that fisting
|
| I know this sound is amazing
|
| I chase 'em quiet like Jason before devouring
|
| their faces with rusty knives and dirty razors
|
| Embracing my craziness, crazy gone when I’m faded
|
| This can’t look good for you haters
|
| who wanna start spar with the fuckin' greatest
|
| I know more like a bag of green, nigga I guess that’s your dream
|
| 'cause I’m unplugged and I might bleed, just
|
| Sometimes I just can’t hear it turn it up, up, up
|
| Tired of running bulls eye,
|
| gotta get outta sight for your eye
|
| Gotta be down 'fore we die, we die
|
| I just came here to turn it up. |
| up. |
| up
|
| Turn it up. |
| up. |
| up
|
| This shit is banging, I’m turning it up
|
| Turning it up
|
| I’m turning it up
|
| You fucking with me and you run into luck
|
| run into luck
|
| You run into luck
|
| I got your neck and I’m making the cut
|
| Filling the cup with that mother fuckin' blood
|
| Sipping it tender like Yves Saint Laurent
|
| No giving wave when taking a chug and i’m done
|
| There ain’t no fuckin' thing, that you gon' try to do
|
| Cause one mother fucker wanna talk that shit
|
| don’t mean that anybody wanna listen to you (ooh)
|
| Like ooh, damn, turn it up quick
|
| That stuff I drank got me feeling a little sick
|
| I’m at the flick, to head up your neck
|
| Fuck up your job so you gotta quit
|
| Speak to the partner, becoming a screen
|
| What about you and me?
|
| Know what I mean?
|
| Don’t believe that you could do anything
|
| Could that be making your wet fucking dream
|
| Bringing the heat, bringing the heat
|
| Don’t give a fuck
|
| I be the, I be the bones
|
| Dub, what?
|
| Turning it way the fuck up
|
| I know more like a bag of green, nigga I guess that’s your dream
|
| 'cause I’m unplugged and I might bleed, just
|
| Sometimes I just can’t hear it turn it up, up, up
|
| Tired of running bulls eye,
|
| gotta get outta sight for your eye
|
| Gotta be down 'fore we die, we die
|
| I just came here to turn it up. |
| up. |
| up
|
| Turn it up. |
| up. |
| up |