Enemy Turf

JuvenileBuy this song


Terius Gray (born March 25, 1975), better known by his stage name Juvenile, is an American rapper, He is also a former member of hip-hop group the Hot Boys. At the age of 19, he began recording raps, releasing his debut album Being Myself in 1995. He became popular when his 1999 single "Back That T… more »

Ah hm hm
Hm hm
When I say I don't give a fuck
I mean that yeah
Niggas brains is gettin' bust
I didn't say that yeah
If a shipment was comin' in
I need a haul of dat wodie
I need a sixty-forty nigga
And no chargin' that wodie
You done heard about Michael Jackson
And shiggidy shit
But you ain't never heard about me
When I'm flissin' a bitch 
Niggas shoulders gettin' knocked
Clean off of they head 
See that red dot comin' from 
Me and my girlfriend
Cause I wants mine
I needs mine
And I'm about to get mine
At these times
Look lil' daddy 
You ain't got to worry about none of these other niggas
You needs to be worried about when Juvi comin' to get ya
Look, I make a phone call to the big dog
Y'all bitches better handle y'all business before I hit y'all
Even though a nigga rich and I rock ice
I still bust a nigga head on the block aright
[Chorus: x2]
It's enemy turf that I'm on
So I'ma play it how it go
Cock the hollow points 
And tote my black calico
My lil' brother Weezy
My big brother Juvi 
Both hit tha blocks
Strapped up with the Uzis
What, what, la
Gun for gun
Eye for eye
Better move yo' wife and son 
Cause I ride or die 
Cash Money Hot Boy
Bless me when I'm gone
But until then load up the chrome cause it's on
I been bout it
Put a boot up in my lip and put my dirty up in a clip
I drop the top and then I flip I hit his cock and make 'em flip
And I be full of that trash
I be the first one to jump out the jag bust at 'em fast
Watch the bullets chop off the head 
And make 'em fall in the grass 
One move they all die 
Lil' Weezy small fry
Guerilla when it's war time
Y'all better learn 
When this nigga shoot it'll be all hell
Well then let 'em burn
Hold 'em fo' ransom, hear me smart boy
Seven churn and I be damn if I let 'em go
If I don't get my dough 
Then hell will be all blowin'
Til I R.I.P., C.M.B. I be
I put it down for all my peeps
Nigga, I'm H.B. for real
[Chorus: x2]

All I know is the streets 
And how to strap up 
When it's time shoot it
Cock yo' heaters 
Tie up yo' bags 
It's time to do it
Blaze the blunt 
Shut off the lights 
And cut down the music 
Roll down the windows 
Turn the corner 
And let loose with the brr
If ya don't know now 
Then ya never will learn
You ca play with Lil' Wayne
And yo' block get burned
You must love to go swimmin'
Cause tha water gets deeper
See I bust you wide open 
And take 'ya daughter with me
Here come the beat boy 
Shoot out the street lights 
Time to bring on the heat boy 
If you ain't really wit it 
Then you better get back
I open yo' chest 
And make it look just like a wet cat
This is a death trap 
I'm a a guerilla and I mean it
Leave ya' head still in a beanin'
Lyin' on the cement
Calico steamin'
Red dot beamin'
Dressed up suspicious
Play wit Lil' Weezy, you'll be dinner for tha fishes
[Chorus: x2]

Enemy Turf
Time to strap up 

Written by: TERUIS GRAY

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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"Enemy Turf Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2016. Web. 28 Oct. 2016. <http://www.lyrics.com/lyric/6740060>.

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Enemy Turf