Wanna keep you turned up, baby, keep you turned on 'Cause you're my party song I wanna keep you turned up, baby, keep you turned on You're my party song Knocking me down with that little beat you're thumpin' Keeping that king cab thumping And, girl, I

When I was Jack and you were Diane Does it make you laugh Every time you hear that song Do you close your eyes Do the memories take you back Six packs and a Chevy Cheyenne Do you turn it up Do you sing along

All the Pinot, Pinot Grigio girls Watch your blues turn gold Keep it real cold 'Cause it's a fired-up world Oh, oh, make it all make sense Pour your heart out Oh, oh, does it all make sense? I was twenty-three She was thirty-five

I always regret midnight decisions You were my whole world He was my whole world Did I mess up? Oh God I hope I didn't It's all a blur when we talk through the liquor I can't stop watching my phone Can't turn it off What is wrong with me? I can't, baby

I'd pick you up and carry you 'cross every stream I see And I'd bundle you in kindness Until you cling to me We'd sit beneath strong branches My arms would twine around I'd turn your green to emerald And give you gold all over the ground If I had you at

Murda on the beat with the murder man Ben Simmons shake 'em with the left hand Steppin' on his dope like a step dad Too turnt up, can't help that Shittin' on a hater no Ex-Lax Watch so dumb it got kept back Bitch so thick, she can't help that 'Cause she

All night, all night Make it a joy ride And I'll ride and I'll die I'll be cruise-controlling I'll take a test drive with you And I'll take a test drive with you All night, all night (I'll ride and I'll die) Turn off the lights Revving it up

It's a bonfire, turn the lights out I'm burnin' everything you muthafuckas talk about Okay, it's Childish Gambino, homegirl drop it like the NASDAQ Move white girls like there's coke up my asscrack Move black girls cause, man, fuck it, I'll do either I

Say it loud and clear For the whole wide world to hear I got the right To make up my mind So turn up the drum Yeah, we must have different shoes on We're marching to a different beat So baby put your boots on Keep marching to a different beat

I wanna put you in my car and drive And turn you up loud, roll down all the windows and shout it out If I could press play, repeat, how happy I'd be Wherever I'd go I'd have you there with me You'd be right where you belong Let me put you in a song Well