Turn It Up

Turn it up, never pay attention to a hatin' ass hoe Niggas don't be on shit, but I bet they share each other's clothes Bet my weed smell like piss, inhale, then I exhale out my nose I got these hoes so mad, like they off the coke, I got 'em blown (woah) I step on the stage, put on a show (woah, woah) Speak down on my name, go toe to toe (let's go) He ain't never met a bitch like me, I know You know we easy-breezy Diamonds VV (yeah), niggas creepy (ooh) Heebee-jeebies (woah), in the jeep (woah) Wе Jeepers Creepers (huh) Think she bad (huh), but bitch, I'm meaner I just put the cash in a stash Why you lookin' on my page and you ain't even wash your ass? I got a check, now I don't know how to act (damn) At my new crib playin' with my son in the grass (woah, ho) Pop designer tags (yeah), niggas lookin' sad (ayy) In the house mad (hahaha), bitch, go and get a bag I don't puff, puff, pass, make a hundred on a bad day Man, these hoes be frontin' like they damn lace Put a bitch to sleep just for pillow talking (sleep) Shorty ass fat, see it through the joggers (look) I'm the realest out, if we being honest (uh-huh) Don't call me paranoid 'cause I'm just used to being cautious (bitch) I'ma be the one that still got it, I'm not the one that lost it She gon' pop a perc like Lil Gotit and then she get to poppin' Soon as we walk in the party, you feel the speakers knockin' He said that I was ugly, but now he eye-lockin' She said that she ain't like me, now the bitch head boppin' (bitch) I've been on her mind all day, I got her head throbbin' I know that they gon' ride my wave, I keep the boat rockin' I told my plug that I can't choose, just bring me all the options My money blue, just like a zoo, it fill up both pockets (yeah) You and your boyfriend hella lame, y'all need to both stop it And if a ho watchin' She see this fit cost more than her whole closet (damn, bitch) I just put the cash in a stash Why you lookin' on my page and you ain't even wash your ass? I got a check, now I don't know how to act (damn) At my new crib playin' with my son in the grass (woah, ho) Pop designer tags (yeah), niggas lookin' sad (ayy) In the house mad (hahaha), bitch, go and get a bag I don't puff, puff, pass, make a hundred on a bad day Man, these hoes be frontin' like they damn lace