text: Turn Lyrics
  Ghosty
  Munroe
  Ghosty
  Munroe
  Turn, turn, turn turn
  Man need to find the lord, I got a lot to lose
  Swing my shank with force
  I dont use no knuckles, though Im in my Moose
  Burnt my tracky and Givenchy runners
  I was pissed I couldnt keep my shoes
  Opps cant hang outside when I start to get over there in my mood
  One Rambo aint enough
  So I jumped in the whizz and I twinned with two
  I been a bad breed since school
  In citizenship Im tryna conceal this kitchen 
  I dont know how to follow the rules
  I was still tryna convince my teacher Im a good citizen
  You aint ever gonna circle the opp block so much times
  Til this dinger wont move
  Then continue the glide on foot
  Thats even more mileage in these shoes
  Blood all over my 97s
  Now theyre looking like Loubs
  Had to off white way before Off-White
  I still split Jerry Springer in two
  Bad B keep callin my phone
  Had to tell her calm down, Im tryna stay faithful
  When the opps get caught, its fatal
  Were the only ones with waps
  They aint got arms, them niggas disabled
  It was tuna and noodles in jail
  Now its smoked salmon with a toasted bagel
  For my freedom, Im grateful
  I was locked up like Akon
  Came home and I bought me a brand new wap
  Its nuttin, theres more where that came from
  Ive got mob ties like the Drake song
  My hood aint one you can rain on
  Ill draw my ting, no crayon
  Leave that pussyhole bleedin
  Like its time of the month and a girl just came on
  My niggas cant sleep on a vio
  I dont know how the opps can function
  Had no clue that I brang my burner
  Til I tried clappin on junction
  Straight Ms or attempts any time that man buck them
  Thought he was dead when I chinged up my man
  But hes still alive, what a poor misjudgement
  Look, my tings set different
  Big fat sword and a Smithen
  Gang spill juice on the opps
  We dont do no half heart dippings
  TT rex, OT, get the hotline blingin
  Gang slap corn in their block
  So the opp boys know their position
  And, free up my jailhouse mates doing Thameside livin
  I hate when they chat bare greeze cah they done no drillings
  Opp block, back my shank and fish him
  Shave man bait or bore him, bend your back if man dig in
  Wave that blade, do more than bend your back if man dig it
  Duck if man ring it
  Move back if you lack cah this aint your average chingin
  You dont know my face, since old school days been drillin
  Grab that black gym back for the action
  More time the gauge been hidden
  My goon soon home cah his case got ridden
  Free up double tap K, who was loose with the latest Smithen
  Me and V9 had to pattern em up, what a great decision
  I still gotta pattern up Mulli
  Big man lowe it and play your position
  Slap that wap cah the 8 dont listen
  Them boy love to talk on the net
  But really theyre great with distance
  I send shots to your boss on the roads and tracks
  Your empty threats are all fiction
  Lets not forget that shh held a dippin
  Big man play your position
  Im the youngest tug on the mission
  Them boy tried boot and their wap went missin
  Likkle man keep dissin
  Grip my shank, with the blade Im swingin
  Swing what shank? Ima blaze and ping him
  Youre pissed on your block if you buck into us
  We aint givin a basic chingin
  Turn, turn, the ding-dong spinnin
  Mhmm, turn, turn, the ding-dongs spinnin
  Mhmm, turn, turn, the ding-dongs spinnin
  Mhmm, turn, turn, the ding-dongs spinnin
  Turn, turn, the ding-dongs spinnin1Embed