Who Sang Enemy Turf? Juvenile

Juvenile Juve the Great cover art
Credits
publisher: ©Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
writers: Teruis Gray
release date: 2003-12-23
genres: Hip Hop
styles: Thug Rap/Bounce
length: 4:05
Ah hm hm
Hm hm

When I say I don't give a ****
I mean that yeah
*****s brains is gettin' bust
I didn't say that yeah
If a shipment was comin' in
I need a haul of dat wodie
I need a sixty-forty *****
And no chargin' that wodie
You done heard about Michael Jackson
And shiggidy ****
But you ain't never heard about me
When I'm flissin' a *****
*****s shoulders gettin' knocked
Clean off of they head
See that red dot comin' from
Me and my girlfriend
Cause I wants mine
I needs mine
And I'm about to get mine
At these times
Look lil' daddy
You ain't got to worry about none of these other *****s
You needs to be worried about when Juvi comin' to get ya
Look, I make a phone call to the big dog
Y'all *****es better handle y'all business before I hit y'all
Even though a ***** rich and I rock ice
I still bust a ***** head on the block aright

[Chorus: x2]
It's enemy turf that I'm on
So I'ma play it how it go
**** the hollow points
And tote my black calico
My lil' brother Weezy
My big brother Juvi
Both hit tha blocks
Strapped up with the Uzis

What, what, la
Gun for gun
Eye for eye
Better move yo' wife and son
Cause I ride or die
Cash Money Hot Boy
Bless me when I'm gone
But until then load up the chrome cause it's on
I been bout it
Put a boot up in my lip and put my dirty up in a clip
I drop the top and then I flip I hit his **** and make 'em flip
And I be full of that trash
I be the first one to jump out the jag bust at 'em fast
Watch the bullets chop off the head
And make 'em fall in the grass
One move they all die
Lil' Weezy small fry
Guerilla when it's war time
Y'all better learn
When this ***** shoot it'll be all hell
Well then let 'em burn
Hold 'em fo' ransom, hear me smart boy
Seven churn and I be damn if I let 'em go
If I don't get my dough
Then hell will be all blowin'
Til I R.I.P., C.M.B. I be
I put it down for all my peeps
*****, I'm H.B. for real

[Chorus: x2]

All I know is the streets
And how to strap up
When it's time shoot it
**** yo' heaters
Tie up yo' bags
It's time to do it
Blaze the blunt
Shut off the lights
And cut down the music
Roll down the windows
Turn the corner
And let loose with the brr
If ya don't know now
Then ya never will learn
You ca play with Lil' Wayne
And yo' block get burned
You must love to go swimmin'
Cause tha water gets deeper
See I bust you wide open
And take 'ya daughter with me
Here come the beat boy
Shoot out the street lights
Time to bring on the heat boy
If you ain't really wit it
Then you better get back
I open yo' chest
And make it look just like a wet cat
This is a death trap
I'm a a guerilla and I mean it
Leave ya' head still in a beanin'
Lyin' on the cement
Calico steamin'
Red dot beamin'
Dressed up suspicious
Play wit Lil' Weezy, you'll be dinner for tha fishes

[Chorus: x2]

Enemy Turf
Time to strap up
What



Tracklist
CD 1
  • 1 Intro
  • 2 In My Life
  • 3 Enemy Turf
  • 4 Outside (skit)
  • 5 Bounce Back
  • 6 Down South Posted
  • 7 It Ain't Mines
  • 8 Numb Numb
  • 9 Lil Daddy
  • 10 Fuckin With Me
  • 11 Cock It
  • 12 Club (skit)
  • 13 Juve 'The Great'
  • 14 Head in Advance
  • 15 For Everybody
  • 16 At the Door (skit)
  • 17 Slow Motion

  • Album Information
    label: Cash Money Records
    country(area): United States
    format: CD
    barcode: 602498613740
    script: Latin