lirik lagu soulja boy – turn on
[chorus: og 3three]
i like the way you turn that bass on (i do)
say look, lil’ baby, won’t you stay home?
gotta stack my chips, i got them coins for your payphone
no nfl, but i’m like a quarterback, won’t you go long?
and she like “stop, boy, you been playin’ a lil’ minute”
girl, i’m like “woah, kemosabe”
i’m up in the p~ssy, hittin’ like tennis
i’m tryna put you out your body
this ain’t no cap, b~tch, i’m wearing a fitted
i just wanna know, is you a real rider?
young n~gga, he straight up out them trenches
just want you with me, f~ck what you hiding
[verse 1: soulja boy]
call a young n~gga to pull up in a bentley
n~gga said f~ck a masi’
got a bad b~tch with me
baby, i just want your body
a n~gga reachin’ for my chain
n~gga, i’m gon’ catch a body, yeah
every day we cashed out, you know rich n~ggas ball
inside the mall, christian dior
yeah, you see the money fall
drop top in the bentley, yeah thе plug keep callin’
young n~gga with them sticks, yeah, we thе trending topic
and whatever she want, i got it
shh, you ain’t gotta talk about it
girl, i like the way you do that
slide ’round in the ‘rari
yeah them big racks, we run through that
hundred k, i’m back in
you know a young n~gga been blew that
she like the way i do that
them choppas, push your sh~t back (them choppas, push your sh~t back)
[chorus: og 3three]
i like the way you turn that bass on (i do)
say look, lil’ baby, won’t you stay home?
gotta stack my chips, i got them coins for your payphone
no nfl, but i’m like a quarterback, won’t you go long?
and she like “stop, boy, you been playin’ a lil’ minute”
girl, i’m like “woah, kemosabe”
i’m up in the p~ssy, hittin’ like tennis
i’m tryna put you out your body
this ain’t no cap, b~tch, i’m wearing a fitted
i just wanna know, is you a real rider?
young n~gga, he straight up out them trenches
just want you with me, f~ck what you hiding
[verse 2: og 3three]
you with a real n~gga, so don’t you worry ’bout no f~cking drama
i got a good vision, so don’t you come here with no f~cking problems
and i got a red beam just to spot that motherf~ckin’ drama
and you know my eyes green, so you know this 4ktrey, lil’ mama
b~tch, where your visine?
sh~t, all you see is them f~ckin’ commas
this ain’t no wock’ lean, but i think you high like a f~ckin’ rasta
i seen you in my dreams just sucking on this baby bottle
girl, you just turned me to a fiend, i want you in my pocket
we hit the road, i’m tryna run out all your f~ckin’ mileage
i don’t pay for tolls, but if you was a ticket, i’d f~ckin’ buy it
don’t trick on no ho, but you can go’n get a couple dollars
don’t know what you know, but i could treat you like a f~ckin’ scholar (treat you good)
[chorus: og 3three]
i like the way you turn that bass on (i do)
say look, lil’ baby, won’t you stay home?
gotta stack my chips, i got them coins for your payphone
no nfl, but i’m like a quarterback, won’t you go long?
and she like “stop, boy, you been playin’ a lil’ minute”
girl, i’m like “woah, kemosabe”
i’m up in the p~ssy, hittin’ like tennis
i’m tryna put you out your body
this ain’t no cap, b~tch, i’m wearing a fitted
i just wanna know, is you a real rider?
young n~gga, he straight up out them trenches
just want you with me, f~ck what you hiding
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