Turn Down

(Turn up, Rittz!)

Shut up, bitch!

Light the weed, we gon burn that shit down

Lifted on the beat, bout to murder it now

Word on the street, you been running your mouth

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me

Rittz, White Jesus, back for the second coming

Second time around I keep it extra slummy

Fuck what you repping, your record's crumby

For the check, I’ve been a grill, I’m feeling extra hungry

Too much of a veteran to ever let you slum me

Better check the rep, and plus I rep my county

Way before Gwinnett was ever called the north side

Ain’t no way to argue with this shit, respect it homie

On the web, these punks be making threats to jump me

Taking pictures with your weapon, you flexing on me

Retros on, watch out where you stepping, clumsy

I ain’t got a lot to lose, really next to nothing

And I’m beginning to feel like I'm a black guy

That’s why I guess I got a bunch of ghetto ass white bitches tryna tat my

Name up on their titty, keep on turning up and one of them will give a bitch a black eye

Light the weed, we gon burn that shit down

Lifted on the beat, bout to murder it now

Word on the street, you been running your mouth

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me

Turn up, turn up

All they ever say is turn up

They know me all around the world, Australia to Europe

There’s levels to this shit, and I’m a different caliber of

MC, and you the kind nobody ever heard of

Don’t try to play the lead, I Hannibal a murder, murder

Come out the stirrup, serve up these rappers solo cup

Pour some sprite and some syrup

You’re drunk, let’s shoot a bird up

They need an article of me in the Atlanta Journal

Constitution, pay homage to me, they should paint a mural

Of me on 85, my shit is a brochure of

Gwinnett, respect the way I did it and didn’t switch up a minute

The nerve of these haters, some of them deserve a

Beating, you couldn’t touch it if you wanted to, like you're a

Germaphobic taking over shit, and then I’m sure of

Determination, what you mad I made it? better cheer up

It’s bloody murder every time I burn up, cause like

Light the weed, we gon burn that shit down

Lifted on the beat, bout to murder it now

Word on the street, you been running your mouth

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me

Two years in a row I got skipped on the freshman cover

Got me feeling some type of way

And I ain’t hating on the rappers they picked, but I’m on the Atlanta tour

Selling records, no competition inside my lane

Up at the hip hop awards, killed the cypher

Paved the way for Gwinnett County, bitch you know I’m Slum

You can listen to my first album

And see where some of these double time rappers got their whole style from

Nobody’s talking shit about me cause they know I’ll come

And turn em down, I’m not a rapper to show out on

And Clientele was the crew that I grew up with

But even if I was alone, outgunned, I’d still call you a bitch

I’m pissed and far from rich

Still crawling on the bottom and I solemnly swear

I had White Jesus in my crockpot before Ross said walking on air

Bout to light the

Light the weed, we gon burn that shit down

Lifted on the beat, bout to murder it now

Word on the street, you been running your mouth

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Turn up on me, Imma turn that bitch down

Tryna turn up on me