Chris Webby Ft. Dizzy Wright - Turnt Up Lyrics

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  • Chris Webby Ft. Dizzy Wright - Turnt Up Lyrics
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    Chris Webby Ft. Dizzy Wright - Turnt Up Lyrics




    Lyrics to Turnt Up and Music Videos
    by Chris Webby Ft. Dizzy Wright. Read the full lirik lagu Chris Webby Ft. Dizzy Wright "Turnt Up" Lyrics and Letra de musicas here @ songlyricshouse.info

    [Intro]
    Like nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…
    Nah nah…
    Nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…

    [Verse 1: Webby]
    C Web in the booth and I speak it real
    Got another beat to kill
    And I be roasting motherfuckers
    Rest In Peace Patrice O’Neil
    Roll up another blunt
    Now how that Diesel feel?
    Got me swerving man
    Who the fuck gave me the wheel?
    Who the fuck gave me these pills?
    Now I’m off in another dimension
    In need of an intervention
    Cause these drugs are too fucking expensive
    But I’m feeling terrific dude
    Banging these broads with no fucking protection
    Yeah, what were you saying babe?
    I wasn’t paying any fucking attention
    Rumbling engine, rolling up in my Camaro and cruise
    Living it like a pirate man
    Always got me a barrel of booze
    Skipping the fools
    Go right for the tip of masseuse
    Sippin’ and rippin’ the bubbler
    Puffing until I can barely move
    Lay back and then stare at the moon, ooh
    Bippidy bobbidy boo
    Webby be rippin’ it properly too
    Hipping and hopping and rambling shit
    Cause these pills I’ve been popping have got me confused
    Shoot up, burn it down
    Light it up, pass it around
    I’m a bad boy bitch
    You didn’t know? You know it now

    [Hook]
    We just doin’ what we doin’, and we’ll never give a fuck
    Put some liquor in my bottle and some ganja rolled up
    We just livin’ like whatever and we’ll never have enough
    Bout to get this motherfucker turned up (turned up)
    Like nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…

    [Verse 2: Dizzy]
    I’m not the one you want a problem with
    …you’d better follow it
    Swear I’m ready for whatever standing in front of my mirror
    Supporting my confidence
    A little weed, you could throw it on top of this
    We get it poppin’, yo bitch gettin’ topless
    Now that you know, niggas adopting the flow
    Niggas can’t stop this shit
    The problem is we won’t acknowledge it
    But me and Webby (I wanna get that)
    If that nigga wanna get mad, sit up and get up
    And fuck that (get that)
    Now I’m playing like a kid on the black top
    Got the… with a flat top
    You got a flat face
    Bad boy, it’s a bad day
    Look at me sideways, and I’mma hit you with a uppercut
    Too cold, better bundle up
    Huddle up cause we comin’ up
    Turnt up, finna fuck it up
    I guarantee that the crowd go crazy
    When I hit the stage, you could bet a hundred bucks
    Boy we out here grindin’
    Smoking the finest, getting the highest
    Getting the mommas, you know when I’m coming
    Just smell for the ganja
    Vegas soldier, takin’ over
    Traveling and taking shots
    Tattoo shops, don’t forget the place to rock
    I need a nasty girl to taste the cock
    In the office, running all over these niggas
    Like bitches, you niggas is softer than niggas
    That just got to prison, this Project X shit is real
    Somebody pass the god damn liquor

    [Hook]
    We just doin’ what we doin’, and we’ll never give a fuck
    Put some liquor in my bottle and some ganja rolled up
    We just livin’ like whatever and we’ll never have enough
    Bout to get this motherfucker turned up (turned up)
    Like nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…

    [Verse 3: Webby]
    That rap phenomenon
    Inked up, looking like Comic Con, Rasta man
    H.A.M. on the mic, no Ramadan
    Go on and on, and leave with a soccer mom
    Cause I kill that beat
    Roll one up in that Swisher Sweet
    Sticky green, sticky green
    With orange hairs, like Pete and Pete
    Flowing double time when I’m on the beat
    Holding up mine when I hit the street
    Burn so much, I be high for weeks
    Spit it so dirty, I need new sheets
    My grinder’s full, and I ain’t talkin turkey, cheese
    I’m talking AK47, Purple Kush and Sour D
    Put it in the bowl, I’ll get a dutchie rolled
    Sprinkle some keef on it, and then away we go
    Get in the flow, lighting up heady to dro
    Partying on, got that confetti to throw
    Killing the spot from the moment
    That Webby’ll step in the door
    Hit some shit, got my pencil gripped
    Instrumental ripped, living life
    Above the law, and way under the influence
    Getting mine while the price high
    What can I say? I’m pretty fly for a white guy

    [Hook]
    We just doin’ what we doin’, and we’ll never give a fuck
    Put some liquor in my bottle and some ganja rolled up
    We just livin’ like whatever and we’ll never have enough
    Bout to get this motherfucker turned up (turned up)
    Like nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah…
    Nah nah nah, nah nah nah…

    Chris Webby Ft. Dizzy Wright Lyrics and Video: Turnt Up

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