Turn It Up (DJ Premier Remix) lyrics

by

Jim Jones


[Intro: Papoose & DJ Premier]
Ayo, Premier, wussup man?
Wussup, Pap?
Live from the Nacirema Dream
Papoose & DJ Premier
Yeah
Time to turn it up on these n*ggas, man
Ayo Primo, you ready to turn it up?
You know it
Let’s turn it up on 'em

[Chorus: Papoose]
We never heard of ya clique but they heard of us
They put em down, we liftin' them burners up
You keep sayin' word to your mother but word to what?
I don’t give a f*ck about none of these n*ggas, I turn it up
Come on, come on, killas
Here go my cup, give me some more liquor
Open this back window, let me dump on n*ggas
It’s my era, I’m bout to turn it up on n*ggas

[Verse 1: Papoose]
Peace to the New York Knickerbockers, the plot got thicker
'Cause now they got the Brooklyn Nets in Barclays Center
Hello Mrs. and Mr., cousins, brothers and sisters
Ladies and gentlemen, children, prisoners and finger printers
Snakes who like to slither, wolves, monkeys, gorillas
Veterans and beginners, righteous people and sinners
Gamblers, losers and winners, ice grillers and grinners
Hope y'all some good swimmers 'cause I’m as deep as the river
I’m the bad guy, just like the Joker and Riddler
Bad as Mike in his prime, Man in the Mirror and Thriller
You ain’t a real man, you can’t even use the sh*tter
You a pus*ycat, you probably got kitty litter
Kill rich n*ggas in chinchilla
Representin' for the wig-splitters and skid bitters who gets scrilla
Like Beenie Man, carjack a b*tch n*gga
Who got the keys to the Jeep? Sim Simmer
[Chorus: Papoose]
We never heard of ya clique but they heard of us
They put em down, we liftin' them burners up
You keep sayin' word to your mother but word to what?
I don’t give a f*ck about none of these n*ggas, I turn it up
Come on, come on, killas
Here go my cup, give me some more liquor
Open this back window, let me dump on n*ggas
It’s my era, I’m bout to turn it up on n*ggas

[Verse 2]
When my oral deliver, it’s such a moral dilemma
I don’t quarrel with quitters, I give 'em sorrow and shimmers
You think your artists is iller just 'cause his car from the dealer?
This music char is bitter, cause y'all some horrible spitters
When I swallow the liquor, I write a marvelous scripture
Start drawin' a picture 'cause I’m immortal, my n*gga
Beef is played out so I don’t bother with n*ggas
But as long as it’s tender, I eat your squad up for dinner
Put my palms on the trigger and shoot you all in yo' liver
Injure all of you n*ggas, I’m cool and calm as a killer
Your man starvin' from figures, man, who are you, Vanilla
Ice?
I’m Suge Knight, hang 'em off the balcony wit'cha
Since I deserve scrilla, I learned to flip birds quicker
Had to hit curves with the hustlers and emerge richer
Back when Dipset was sippin sizzurp, n*gga
My jewelry was black and yellow just like the Pittsburgh Steelers
[Chorus: Papoose]
We never heard of ya clique but they heard of us
They put em down, we liftin' them burners up
You keep sayin' word to your mother but word to what?
I don’t give a f*ck about none of these n*ggas, I turn it up
Come on, come on, killas
Here go my cup, give me some more liquor
Open this back window, let me dump on n*ggas
It’s my era, I’m bout to turn it up on n*ggas

[Verse 3: Papoose]
I’m on that money train, making dead president stops
Robbed the liquor store just so we can get some Ciroc
Ate Corn Flakes, no Fruity Pebbles and Pops
Got chased by the stray dogs when I fled though the block
Bought a 50-cent razor, now I’m ready to rock
I step to your block with a George Jefferson bop
I cut him cross peddle bike, he bled to his socks
'Cause Miles didn’t have a chain when I peddled and popped
My leather bomber was better than that pleather you rocked
I wore old bomber way before Michelle and Barack
I heard up North you wasn’t reppin' a lot
You never caught a 10-3, you respected the cops
How you gon' use that jail sh*t to try to get to the top?
You woke up in PC, never slept in a box
He said he hungry so I fed him the ox
My gun is like an independent record label, Heckler and Koch
[Chorus: Papoose]
We never heard of ya clique but they heard of us
They put em down, we liftin' them burners up
You keep sayin' word to your mother but word to what?
I don’t give a f*ck about none of these n*ggas, I turn it up
Come on, come on, killas
Here go my cup, give me some more liquor
Open this back window, let me dump on n*ggas
It’s my era, I’m bout to turn it up on n*ggas

[Outro: DJ Premier scratching]
Turn up
Now I come back
Keep it underground hardcore
Turn up
Now I come back
Keep it underground hardcore
Turn up
Now I come back
Keep it underground hardcore
Turn up
Papoose, Papoose
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net