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Artist: Da Hol' 9
Album:  That Hella-Thurl Sh!#
Song:   Hit the Turnin' Lane
Typed by: blkachuba@msn.com

[Talking 1- Kaos 2- Kemo]
1- Ay see lemme holla at ya dogg
(shit whuts up dogg?)
1- Man that nigga over therre right therre wit that dice
Nigga had to do wit Kemo last week at the club dogg
(dogg...)
1- Man get that nigga on the phone dogg, bout to hit
This nigga man, hit that nigga right now 'fore he know what's happenin
(That nigga in the blue shirt over therre?)
1- Man that nigga wit the dice man get the phone out dogg
What you trippin off of nigga?
(Damn nigga! hold on hold on)
1- Man this nigga bout to get hit derty, call that nigga dogg
Man call that nigga man you herr me? fuck that shit lemme talk
2- Hello? hello? I can't herr
1- Mo whut's up dogg?
2- Whuts up nigga
1- Ay man I'm up herre at these uh, muthafuckin pool halls man and uh
That lil' problem you had last week dogg, them niggaz up herre man
2- YOU BULLSHITTIN NIGGA!
1- Muthafuckin talkin bout blazin them niggaz right now
2- AH FUCK NAW NIGGA IM ON MY MUTHAFUCKIN WAY DOGG!

[Verse 1: Kemo]
Chill lil' derty, I'm the nigga that'll make you groan
Take the cash that till them muthafuckers feel it and cant take it no mo'
Fuck a 10-4, I don't got a lil' ho, they call me lil' Kemo man
I bust through the do' ho wit a glock fo' fo', break up the whole crap game
Gimme ya change man, wit a ticket to ya mainframe
Watch a niggaz brains hang, same thang every day, all day
Make the nigga a watermelon chain gang, slang 'cain
Watch a nigga gold chain hang, fuck a nigga matchin panky ring
Maintain, sub it up a lil', play a lil' game of 20 mil a main frame
Off wit ya main thang, bitch tell me the L truck gotta gain lane
Brains crammed, bitch gimme head cuz I'm a muthafuckin stage name
Hit the turnin lane, put the foot on the left, what we did out here smokin Mary Jane
We be in the game till I heard a muthafucker talk about a nigga needin our change
Well shit you did, plus not the real shit, pussy nigga get peeled quick
For a meal ticket, now ya ass dumped up cuz I know the way you ain't gon kill shit
Now kneel quick, put holes in ya heel fit, you fuckin wit a real nigga
Better chill nigga, one shot, one killed, 45 hundred tips to ya grill

[Hook: Kemo - repeat 2X]
Hit the turnin' lane, put the foot up on left
What we did out here smokin mary jane
Turnin' lane, put the foot up on left
What we did out here smokin mary jane
Turnin' lane, put the foot up on left
What we did out here smokin mary jane
Turnin' lane, wit the foot up on the left
What we did out here smokin

[Verse 2: Kaos]
I'm that nigga that's blowin up the spot, makin everthing hot
From my block to yo block, on top, ol' ballin ass nigga
Hmm me? hmm ho I think not ah, got skeet from 9 next to the glock
There's too many niggaz that I know from the block and uh
There's too many niggaz that I know rollin double O 1 drop tops
Urbody on the grind, urbody tryin to shine
Urbody sayin nothin bout time, urbody got a fine ass dime
Most of these niggaz out herre cant rhyme, freestylin all day long
Talkin bout they label and all they songs, walkin around like the shit
But ain't made no hits, get ya pussy ass home, turnin on niggaz on stage
Every four gettin paid, talkin bout the block and the yay and the hoes they played
Niggaz in the crowd like "bullshit! fuck naw, no way!"
Nigga talkin bout they goin gold, on the road doin fucked up promo show
Check the sto' and never sold about 3 or 4 and the cd 4 months old

[Hook: repeat 2X]

[Verse 3: Kemo]
Ah ah ah, hang out like double D bra
Roll through the streets of the muthafuckin STL while the truck be calm
And a beat ball, and you see me dogg when we be swervin to the curve in the bird
Got a couple niggaz certain, fin to knock and left mo in the urr (yes'ir yes'ir)
I'm in Atlanta on a fox now, rollin through Stone Mountain now
Clark's head tryin to count the 9's, see roll like Kemo tryin to couple the one I'm foundin now
Many cases so I'm bound to find, so I'm gettin my ass off in 2 deep, feel me dogg
Rollin down 6 Drout dope fiends tryin to flick a nigga down, tryin to get a 8ball
Then they hit Rock Road, niggaz over therre clockin dough, cops out so its time to go
In Kirkwood, niggaz say the herb would ran out so nigga gotta constantly smoke
Caddie grill stop the flo', don't be talkin no stuff or the bloods will get you smacked
Real niggaz from the ATL, stay up and represent the mirror 'fore it makes you crazy...