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Lyrics:
[X4] Turn this up loud Yes all the way to 10 we gonna rock right now, right now
[Verse One] If your business ain't right don't step to me And if it is Get at Supa, but Illmind sold separately I don't carry a briefcase but I handle B.I. properly Puttin' a stop to these snakeskin cheapskates Broadcasted on the evening news If I can't make money off my name, neither can you Now hip hop is the love of my life But wack niggas want a guest appearance So I'm gonna have to double my price We both hungry as hell and both scraping out plates But like Outback I got a reputation at stake/steak And I doubt that That you wanna step, is this what you want? I'm all about that real, no publicity stunts Y'all dudes got a lot of talk game, saying that you pack arenas But your shows look like an Atlanta Hawks game Hold up, stop and reverse I see the difference between reality and what you pop in a verse
[Hook] So turn it up, turn the volume up a notch In the car, in the crib, in the club on the block Just, let it bang till your eardrums pops Yes, till somebody calls the cops, I'mma rock So turn it up, turn the volume up a notch In the car, in the crib, in the club on the block Just, let it bang till your eardrums pops Yes, let in bang in your boombox
[Verse Two] Now I respect a few rappers but I know there's no equal My flow is so lethal it gags and chokes people Whether legend or has been, the best get floored Stomp you, your producer and whoever pressed record I'm dead serious so I fiend for legendary status It seem niggas only aim to be better than average And that's pathetic itself, get a medical help Cause every other bar I spit, I try to better myself I said it myself The game, fame, man I would love it But I ain't tryin' to water down my sound or go Banana Republic That's real, cats feel that I'm underrated But the day I shine, them fools be the first ones that hate it I can't please every fan or every different listener So I do whatever got me up to this position I'm not crunk, I'm not backpack or abstract I'm hip hop in its purest form, player that's that
[Hook] So turn it up, turn the volume up a notch In the car, in the crib, in the club on the block Just, let it bang till your eardrums pops Yes, till somebody calls the cops, I'mma rock So turn it up, turn the volume up a notch In the car, in the crib, in the club on the block Just, let it bang till your eardrums pop Yes, let in bang in your boombox
[Verse Three] I know people gon' wonder what I charge for a track If I write it on paper you'll think it's a phone number, fall back Supastition, anything that I say is Breathtaking, label me the franchise player Not a punchline rapper, that was back then, I know the rules New and improved, still blessing you with +Quotables+ now But y'all don't get it homie These underground cats aini't got shit on me Y'all some one trick ponies My skills are phenomenal and near perfect I write a story or an anthem A classic or a tear jerker I'm never nervous, I'm a veteran with flows And performances, but everything is evident at shows At 7 man, he knows how he turn a crowd out Outshine the headliners and silence the loudmouths Let the music drown 'em out Y'all stay at home rappers And bedroom producers, y'all dudes got it backwards
[Hook] So turn it up, turn the volume up a notch In the car, in the crib, in the club on the block Just, let it bang till your eardrums pop Yes, till somebody calls the cops, I'm a rock So turn it up, turn the volume up a notch In the car, in the crib, in the club on the block Just, let it bang till your eardrums pops Yes, let in bang in your boombox So turn it up Just turn it up Turn it up Turn it up
Supastition. Illmind. The Deadline
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