Lyrics Gucci Mane – Too Turnt Up

I got this party started, ready for the mike like a starving artist
And I’m hard to start it

I’m a mad man, ask yelawolf I need a straight jacket

So I gave her just what Gucci mane tried to get you to take

(That white girl is a freak)
I pass that bitch to yell, he pass that back to me

I’m too turnt up that I’m turnt out
I’m so burnt up, my lungs burnt out
I smoke too much, my crew smoked out
I ball too much, we just balled out
I’m too turnt up that I’m turnt out
I burn too much, my crew burnt out
I smoke too much, my roof smoked out
I ball too much, we just balled out

Elevator kush got me leaning like the Eiffel tower
I’m dreaming of a plate of powder
These pills got me tripping, I’m tripping
I missed my prescription, I’m slippin’
I’m a mad man, ask yelawolf I need a straight jacket
But I’m balling out and you ain’t in my task bracket
7 is the key, that white girl is a freak, I pass that bitch to yela’, he pass that back to me

I came in with Irene, I’m leaving with Codeine
I need to take a chill pill and retreat from the scene
But I’ma take a stand until my drugs here, you dig
I purchase them to use em so guess what Gucci mane did…

I’m too turnt up that I’m turnt out
I’m so burnt up, my lungs burnt out
I smoke too much, my crew smoked out
I ball too much, we just balled out
I’m too turnt up that I’m turnt out

Yeah, everyday I’m throwin back
I guess I’m more like my dad than I thought I was
And I need more in fact
I run to the store like I had a job moppin up
Another party popping up, drink till I drop my cup
Sink gettin all stopped up
From the blunt guts, smokers on the porch
With the bong full of bud And the kegs pumped up
Yeah that’s right, cocaine got these boys scratching they head like a head of lice
Bad luck on the floor with a bitch when I thought I had a hit, but instead it was a dike
So I gave her just what Gucci mane tried to get you to take
Soon as it set in, she came in with a twin and let off the breaks
I got this party started, ready for the mike like a starving artist
And I’m hard to start it, when its all said and done, and the confetti runs out then you can just point the party at me…
Yeah that, yeah that’s me
Yeah that’s daddy’s pedigree
Drop a mothafukin verse readily, ain’t none of them ahead of me
Yeah catfish billy, shoulda just called me «cept fo three»
Cuse I take a thirty two pack of brew and crush em… except for 3
Save them for the light weights, the 115’s in the skinny jeans
And I’ll be the king of the scene, the scene with the jim beam, beam

I’m too turnt up that I’m turnt out
I’m so burnt up, my lungs burnt out
I smoke too much, my crew smoked out
I ball too much, we just balled out
I’m too turnt up that I’m turnt out
I burn too much, my crew burnt out
I smoke too much, my roof smoked out
I ball too much, we just balled out