NBA OG 3Three - Turn On lyrics

[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 pussy, 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 ni**a, he straight up out them trenches Just want you with me, fu*k what you hiding [Verse 1: Soulja Boy] Call a young ni**a to pull up in a Bentley ni**a said fu*k a Masi' Got a bad b*tch with me Baby, I just want your body A ni**a reachin' for my chain ni**a, I'm gon' catch a body, yeah Every day we cashed out, you know rich ni**as ball Inside the mall, Christian Dior Yeah, you see the money fall Drop top in the Bentley, yeah thе plug keep callin' Young ni**a 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 ni**a 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 pussy, 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 ni**a, he straight up out them trenches Just want you with me, fu*k what you hiding [Verse 2: OG 3Three] You with a real ni**a, so don't you worry 'bout no fu*king drama I got a good vision, so don't you come here with no fu*king problems And I got a red beam just to spot that motherfu*kin' 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 fu*kin' commas This ain't no Wock' lean, but I think you high like a fu*kin' rasta I seen you in my dreams just su*king 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 fu*kin' mileage I don't pay for tolls, but if you was a ticket, I'd fu*kin' 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 fu*kin' 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 pussy, 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 ni**a, he straight up out them trenches Just want you with me, fu*k what you hiding