Turn the music up You must be out your mind What are you out your mind? Turn the music Red Bull in my hands, feels like I got wings Lotta people in my face, but I can't hear a thing It's like my heads up in the clouds, heads up in the clouds And I ain't

Kick the dust up We go way out where There ain't nobody We turn this cornfield Into a party Pedal to the floorboard Eight up in a four-door Burnin' up a back-road song Park it and we pile out

Turn up your night I will find you Make them dance Just like you 'Cause you make me move Yeah you always make go I'll run away with your foot steps I'll build a city that dreams for two And if you lose yourself

You can make love in the morning That Mink flow, I'm warm Got milly in the safe, come Nigga get turned upside down I was rich way before the gang I was slime way before the name Kill shit like today And that's all I gotta say I ain't leading you wrong

We mash up the place Turn up the bass Pack up and run We'll pack up and run We'll pack up and run away, huh? And make them all have fun Make it burn them And we will end your week

Gyal come on to me Come over here and perform for me Gyal ya da bomb, da bomb, da bomb, da bomb, bomb bomb digi digi digi, bring come give it to me Come here now gyal (Give it to me gyal) Come here now gyal Turn up ya temperature, make ya wine for me She

Up one now, but you wouldn't even pay attention (Alright) Up one now, know I'm out here on a mission (Uh-huh) Up one now, yeah you need to pay attention (Yeah) Up one now, I'm turnin' all the bad bitches down Up one now, my niggas, they tryna get it

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

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

The forecast calls for pain Coffee for my breakfast Shot of whiskey on the side It's a dark and dreary morning With the clouds covering up the sky My baby's turning cold And the forecast calls for pain