| Song | Bout to Go Down |
| Artist | Turk |
| Album | Young and Thuggin' |
| 作曲 : Nance, Thomas, Virgil ... | |
| (feat. Big Tymers And Christina) [Verse 1 - Turk] look, look, look | |
| I done told you once and | |
| I'm not gon say it no mo' | |
| Stuntin in front them hoes sayin what you gon through | |
| Now nigga, look here, you know you down bad round | |
| Runnin off the mouth, tellin me not to come around | |
| You must be trippin, what you think you debo? | |
| I don't care who you is what you think that | |
| I'm a hoe? | |
| Never that never was and never would be | |
| I got a gat, | |
| I ain't just totin tryin to see | |
| I'm bout to pull off some my rype shit | |
| Put a bomb in a lil city, tell yo mom, you bitch | |
| Playin with me, look you better know what you doin partna | |
| Cuz I'm playin for keeps, slip up, nigga | |
| I got cha | |
| But I'ma do,you and bet the next nigga don't try me | |
| I'ma abuse-ya, cut-cha, and burn up ya body | |
| Playin raw like | |
| Gotti wrong like | |
| Gotti, you wack your hoe | |
| And flea off in my | |
| Limo-tinted up- | |
| Ram [Chorus] | |
| Why you lay that boy down- | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down- | |
| Because she play with me dogg | |
| I heard you spray like four round- | |
| Off top, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down (fo sho) | |
| It's bout to go down (fo sho) | |
| Why you lay that boy down- | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down- | |
| Because she play with me fo' | |
| I heard you spray like four round- | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down, it's bout to go down [Verse 2 - Christina] | |
| Off top, fuck it | |
| I show up at ya block and see | |
| Wit about fifty glocks | |
| And I pop, pop, pop out my pretty pink drop | |
| Lil shop pumpin rocks up in the parkin lot | |
| Pull up in the light, with a coupe | |
| With a bag, matchin my boots | |
| I ain't here to be cute, | |
| I'm here to bring the truth | |
| But I gotta letcha bitches know exacly how | |
| I do I know bitches be like, "she can't really fight Ain't no ghetto in her", till | |
| I put the medal in her | |
| Take her, out of her misery, out of her hell, fuck | |
| Shanelle Shit, | |
| I'm down to bring couple of nails | |
| Bitch I touch with out reachin, huss you with out speakin | |
| Up-chick up before bullets start leakin | |
| I locked up and got my poker face on | |
| A.C. and the king, meet yall jokers face on | |
| Chumps get done fuckin with the lady don | |
| Take your arms leave reachless | |
| Shit, I leave you speechless | |
| Tryin to take my mic cuz he slapped u outta reflex [Chorus] | |
| Why you lay that boy down- | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down- | |
| Because she play with me dogg | |
| I heard you spray like four round- | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down (fo sho) | |
| It's bout to go down (fo sho) | |
| Why you lay that boy down- | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down- | |
| Because she play with me fo' | |
| I heard you spray like four round- | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down (off top) | |
| It's bout to go down [Verse 3 - Baby] | |
| Let's go Bitch nigga take that frown down, before we tear it down | |
| Bring it cousin cuz this gangsta shit should have been went down | |
| In the club, high off that fire woodie | |
| Right now, | |
| I guess it's bout time to holla woodie | |
| Didn't a nigga like to tell ya dead sonny, hundred round | |
| Lay'em down, fuck over'em the nigga ain't nothin but a clown | |
| Uptown round, he gettin in his car burn him down | |
| Shot callin, | |
| I never get my hands dirty | |
| These hands were made for playin hoes and cookin birdies | |
| Off that bottle, | |
| I'm bad and | |
| I'm nervous | |
| Dick Clint, | |
| Big Chief, | |
| K-C, ya'll help me serv'em | |
| Everybody in the project know who choppin and who servin | |
| Cross the court, niggas whisperin and they nervous | |
| Step up comin home, pop a bottle, and cook a birdy | |
| Don't get it twisted, it's | |
| Cash Money real estate | |
| Platinum bullets, let his family see his fuckin face [Chorus] | |
| Why you lay that boy down- | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down- | |
| Because she play with me dogg | |
| I heard you sprak like four round- | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down (fo sho) | |
| It's bout to go down (fo sho) | |
| Why you lay that boy down- | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down- | |
| Because she play with me fo' | |
| I heard you spray like four round- | |
| Off top, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down (off top) | |
| It's bout to go down (let's go) |
| zuò qǔ : Nance, Thomas, Virgil ... | |
| feat. Big Tymers And Christina Verse 1 Turk look, look, look | |
| I done told you once and | |
| I' m not gon say it no mo' | |
| Stuntin in front them hoes sayin what you gon through | |
| Now nigga, look here, you know you down bad round | |
| Runnin off the mouth, tellin me not to come around | |
| You must be trippin, what you think you debo? | |
| I don' t care who you is what you think that | |
| I' m a hoe? | |
| Never that never was and never would be | |
| I got a gat, | |
| I ain' t just totin tryin to see | |
| I' m bout to pull off some my rype shit | |
| Put a bomb in a lil city, tell yo mom, you bitch | |
| Playin with me, look you better know what you doin partna | |
| Cuz I' m playin for keeps, slip up, nigga | |
| I got cha | |
| But I' ma do, you and bet the next nigga don' t try me | |
| I' ma abuseya, cutcha, and burn up ya body | |
| Playin raw like | |
| Gotti wrong like | |
| Gotti, you wack your hoe | |
| And flea off in my | |
| Limotinted up | |
| Ram Chorus | |
| Why you lay that boy down | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down | |
| Because she play with me dogg | |
| I heard you spray like four round | |
| Off top, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down fo sho | |
| It' s bout to go down fo sho | |
| Why you lay that boy down | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down | |
| Because she play with me fo' | |
| I heard you spray like four round | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down, it' s bout to go down Verse 2 Christina | |
| Off top, fuck it | |
| I show up at ya block and see | |
| Wit about fifty glocks | |
| And I pop, pop, pop out my pretty pink drop | |
| Lil shop pumpin rocks up in the parkin lot | |
| Pull up in the light, with a coupe | |
| With a bag, matchin my boots | |
| I ain' t here to be cute, | |
| I' m here to bring the truth | |
| But I gotta letcha bitches know exacly how | |
| I do I know bitches be like, " she can' t really fight Ain' t no ghetto in her", till | |
| I put the medal in her | |
| Take her, out of her misery, out of her hell, fuck | |
| Shanelle Shit, | |
| I' m down to bring couple of nails | |
| Bitch I touch with out reachin, huss you with out speakin | |
| Upchick up before bullets start leakin | |
| I locked up and got my poker face on | |
| A. C. and the king, meet yall jokers face on | |
| Chumps get done fuckin with the lady don | |
| Take your arms leave reachless | |
| Shit, I leave you speechless | |
| Tryin to take my mic cuz he slapped u outta reflex Chorus | |
| Why you lay that boy down | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down | |
| Because she play with me dogg | |
| I heard you spray like four round | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down fo sho | |
| It' s bout to go down fo sho | |
| Why you lay that boy down | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down | |
| Because she play with me fo' | |
| I heard you spray like four round | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down off top | |
| It' s bout to go down Verse 3 Baby | |
| Let' s go Bitch nigga take that frown down, before we tear it down | |
| Bring it cousin cuz this gangsta shit should have been went down | |
| In the club, high off that fire woodie | |
| Right now, | |
| I guess it' s bout time to holla woodie | |
| Didn' t a nigga like to tell ya dead sonny, hundred round | |
| Lay' em down, fuck over' em the nigga ain' t nothin but a clown | |
| Uptown round, he gettin in his car burn him down | |
| Shot callin, | |
| I never get my hands dirty | |
| These hands were made for playin hoes and cookin birdies | |
| Off that bottle, | |
| I' m bad and | |
| I' m nervous | |
| Dick Clint, | |
| Big Chief, | |
| KC, ya' ll help me serv' em | |
| Everybody in the project know who choppin and who servin | |
| Cross the court, niggas whisperin and they nervous | |
| Step up comin home, pop a bottle, and cook a birdy | |
| Don' t get it twisted, it' s | |
| Cash Money real estate | |
| Platinum bullets, let his family see his fuckin face Chorus | |
| Why you lay that boy down | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down | |
| Because she play with me dogg | |
| I heard you sprak like four round | |
| Yes I did, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down fo sho | |
| It' s bout to go down fo sho | |
| Why you lay that boy down | |
| Cuz he play with me dogg | |
| Why you lay that hoe down | |
| Because she play with me fo' | |
| I heard you spray like four round | |
| Off top, yes | |
| I did Turk is bout to go down off top | |
| It' s bout to go down let' s go |