letra de turnest nigga in the city - 42 dugg
[intro]
d-d-d-d-dj swift on the track
youngest in the, hey, i see you n-ggas (mook, what up?)
mook got the keys jumpin’
[verse 1]
doggy brick for sixty-five, yeah, i’m on that
free skeet, if they don’t take a three, then i don’t want that
one foot in and one foot out like f-ck it, bring them phones back
‘cuz takin’ hits still, 12 could get ’em k!lled still
buzz been goin’ up in the hood, doggy a thug
jedd finally cut off his hair, caught him a blood
still takin’ hits of the nast’, thought i was done
nah, b-tch, get you a bag, let’s have some fun
jazz back f-ckin’ with chazz, i shouldn’t cry
maybach, two hunnid in cash, i shouldn’t drive
local n-ggas tryna compete, show me a m
ran up two-fifty this week, n-gga, in timbs
gotti got ’em all lined up, i want a dime
doggy talkin’ crazy on the ‘gram, i wanna try ’em
like he ain’t worth half what he be sayin’, n-ggas be lyin’
b-tch, i get it, i’m still f-ckin’ ovеr all your n-ggas
[chorus]
turntest youngin’ in the city, you know all us pipe
evеrybody tote a .30, b-tch, and all us fight
gettin’ paid from them birdies, n-ggas, all us mike, vick, ho
let’s hit the road, i need a white b-tch (what else?)
prolly move back to the a, n-ggas don’t like me
never seen doggy go bold, check his indictments
told all you n-ggas here ’cause i’m on, why you ain’t write me?
i just got them call from durk, n-ggas kitin’ off the rock
[verse 2]
see a opp, you know it’s on, say he right, i know he wrong
ain’t no iffin’, b-tch, i’m goin’, two shot dealie, b-tch, i’m blowin’
any color, double orange, rose gold, forty pointers
n-ggas’ hoes, they be pointin’ (i see you)
show that work work, n-gga, i know like four of y’all ain’t right
double seven out of five, n-gga, four of y’all ain’t fight
give me those, straight to mike’s, that was never me
and tell that b-tch, “get off my d-ck, i got better freaks”
bro, if i want a ho for real, she’ll never leave
i’m still on the east, packin’, swervin’ in that bent’
i still got the same air mattress that got her hit
lemme stop, i got a b-tch, but n-gga, she rich too
[chorus]
turntest youngin’ in the city, you know all us pipe
everybody tote a .30, b-tch, and all us fight
gettin’ paid from them birdies, n-ggas, all us mike, vick, ho
let’s hit the road, i need a white b-tch (what else?)
prolly move back to the a, n-ggas don’t like me
never seen doggy go bold, check his indictments
told all you n-ggas here ’cause i’m on, why you ain’t write me?
i just got them call from durk, n-ggas kitin’ off the rock
[outro]
n-ggas kitin’ off the rock, b-tch
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