[HOOK – Male (Modern Country Talk-Sung, Chantable)] We got boots on the porch and J’s in the air, Bass in the bed like we don’t play fair. Red cup, blue light, whole block aware— Turn it up—yeah, turn it up—we don’t care. Truck doors slam, then the 808 hits, Two-steppin’ reckless with the skyline lit. Bonfire heat but the bounce on switch— Turn it up—yeah, turn it up—let it rip. [VERSE 1] Pulled up slow like I own that gravel, Tailgate down, let the night unravel. Cold can crack, little foam on the label, Speakers in the back like a damn round table. Buddy got the aux, I’m leanin’ in the groove, Left foot dirt, right foot ready to move. Fence line lookin’ like it wanna complain, But we got the kind of loud that make rules feel fake. Shotgun seat full of good bad ideas, Headlights sweepin’ through the smoke and beers. I don’t chase nothin’, I just set the tone— When I walk in, the whole thing turns on. [HOOK] We got boots on the porch and J’s in the air, Bass in the bed like we don’t play fair. Red cup, blue light, whole block aware— Turn it up—yeah, turn it up—we don’t care. Truck doors slam, then the 808 hits, Two-steppin’ reckless with the skyline lit. Bonfire heat but the bounce on switch— Turn it up—yeah, turn it up—let it rip. [VERSE 2] Ayo—move. I don’t ask, I direct. If the room too quiet, I’m a problem, correct. Big bass bully, make the ribcage flex, I came with the chaos and the combo effects. Look—who’s tough? Not you. Not him. I snap like a flash, then I vanish in the rim. Cup in my hand, but my stare do the work, I’ll shut the whole party down with a tilt and a smirk. Step in the circle—don’t freeze, don’t fold, I’m pressure on purpose, I’m heat on cold. City on my tongue, got venom in the vowels, I bark one bar—watch the whole crowd howl. And if your neighbor mad? Good. Let ’em stay mad. We the reason that the group chat actin’ so sad. I don’t do “calm,” I don’t do “small,” I do floor-shake, wall-rattle, headboard fall. Hands up—now clap—now stomp—now spin, If you ain’t loud, then you ain’t comin’ in. I’m the spark to the gas, to the match, to the flame— Say “turn it up” like you mean my name. [BRIDGE / DROP-BACK ] (beat drops to sub + rim clicks, crowd chant under breath) [Male – low, talk-sung]: Hold up… hold up… Let it breathe… let it breathe… (pause—bass swells) [Female – sharp, commanding]: Don’t blink. Don’t back up. When it hits—jump. (snare roll rises, kick returns, synth stabs flash like headlights) [FINAL HOOK / OUTRO] [Male – hook lead]: We got boots on the porch and J’s in the air, Bass in the bed like we don’t play fair. Red cup, blue light, whole block aware— Turn it up—yeah, turn it up—we don’t care. Truck doors slam, then the 808 hits, Two-steppin’ reckless with the skyline lit. Bonfire heat but the bounce on switch— Turn it up—yeah, turn it up—let it rip. [ad-libs / chants over hook]: Louder! (Louder!) Shake it! (Shake it!) No rules! (No rules!) Big mood! (Big mood!) Backyard to the high-rise—same fit! same grip! If it ain’t knockin’ pictures off the wall—don’t play it! [Male – outro tag, half-laugh]: Neighbors already mad… good. (crowd chant fades: “TURN IT UP! TURN IT UP!”)
