Turnt Up

[Intro] Enemy of the State Enemy of the State Ugh Yeah, yeah, yeah Let's go, let's go, let's go [Verse 1] Microphone check, I make 'em all bounce Every teller in Bank of America—make them all count You gon' need the whole staff to add up the amount— It's going to take to pay me off to keep me out your house To keep me in my zone so that I don't zone out I'm rich and poor like Zone 4, thoughts is deep like Tone Loc Walk with me like old folk, cross your street a score's goaled I don't rap—I hockey rink, 'cause my flow is so cold I am on my "Mhm," they are on they "Oh, no!" I am really in here; they ain't real like Soul Glo Don't you know I'm so sure? Them niggas got no glow Find a master 'fore you can come back into the dojo Lupe got his mind right; nigga, this is my mic And I've come to take it all back like Miller High Life He must not be tied tight, back against the wall He will throw a ball like he playing jai-alai I'll do the register—you just get them fries right I don't trust America after watching Zeitgeist Take a look at my stripes: Chest look like a tiger arm And I'm hot as tiger balm, fire like a five-alarm And it's set to Tire Barn, get your firefighter on I ain't worried about you hoes—I don't even need to roll I turn down your ex like how you put your tires on Once I get these tires on, I buy a bomb and tie it on And ride this around the entire song, find a line to drive it on Park it near a metaphor; wait for it—the timer's on You can turn your hydrants on; I'll just turn my wipers on Wipe it off, then wipe me down, but don't forget about my bomb!