turnt up niggaz
Turn the fuck up on y'all niggas
One time for Fetti Gang, YG Hootie
P Smurf, what up nigga?
It's Fetti Gang, Flocka Flame, and John Belushi
Get your cameras out we 'bout to make a movie
All this Rosé got a nigga woozy
BSM, shout out to YG Hootie
Bottoms up, bottles up
Take your bitch to the tele and make her gobble nuts (swallow)
They know we gang bang, they ask us what we do it for
We just tell 'em we some pimps in red uniforms
Just met a bitch from Thailand, she like to bang cock
So I put her on the strip and told her bring clock
Fetti Gang the unit, BSM the movement
Red flags everywhere, this just how we do it
 x2
We some turnt up niggas
Down to pull a trigger
All for one, one for all
My nigga, you my nigga
Kill, why we kill three
Back against the wall
Middle finger, screaming fuck this industry
We too fucking street
My whip, two doors
My phone, new whores
BSM, we T-U
Running through the pack we need more
Bitch, pulled up at headquarters
Homie, that's your girlfriend
I fucked up her life, turned that to a whirlwind
Got a lot of money, still gangbanging
Fall to the club, with my chain swanging
Keychain, pink stones, got that for them red bones
On Piru Street with the chopper
Knock a nigga ass out just like Flocka
That's that shit I learned, that enterprise
You ain't down to kill, don't get in the ride
T-T-U, too turnt up
T-T-G, leave you stuck
(Get your ass laid out), nigga who gon' pick you up?
Blood holiday, formerly a hundred deep
Young, rich nigga, still thuggin', Eazy-E
 x2
John Belushi, brand new Rolls
Bitch poking out like Kat Stack's nose
Chain so icey need a Mizay charm
Leather so soft, this feel like home
YG on and I feel like Russell
No English-speaking bitch, understand my hustle
That F3 style, for fiend boys
That Maserati place, say fiend boys
Them Prada jeans cost five hanks
But you broke niggas can't speak my language
Couple more shows, I'm a buy a Vanquish
Y'all moving slow like a pack of penguins
We do a show like a lone alliance
Big BSM chain covered in diamonds
Hoppin' out of them burgundy and gold
Looking like I'm one of them 49ers
Niggas know what time it is
'Bout a half a million worth of diamonds bitch
Y'all playing with loose change
I'm in your hood feeling like I'm at a shooting range
It's John Belushi, westside daddy
Came through his hood point the Mac .90 addie
We the BT boys hop up in the Magnum
Come back to the hood, get this shit cracking
 x2