"Turks" by NAV, Gunna, and Travis Scott is a narrative of the artists' journey from hardship to success. The lyrics depict their transition from a life of crime and poverty ("Came from the streets, it turned me to a beast") to one of wealth and fame ("Twenty racks don't feel like nothing to me"). The song also highlights the artists' commitment to their roots despite their newfound status, as seen in lines such as "My hood on my back, I gotta represent". Furthermore, the repeated references to Turks (a luxury vacation destination) symbolize their escape from past struggles and entry into a world of opulence. However, the lyrics also hint at the challenges that come with success, including maintaining authenticity and dealing with legal issues ("My brother got locked, another bond I gotta pay").
Turks
Lyrics
(Wheezy outta here)
I'm a late bloomer, third year on the scene
Twenty racks don't feel like nothing to me
Came from the streets, it turned me to a beast
Invisible set, diamonds huggin' my piece
Book me for a show, I need eighty at least
I want the smoke, ain't no keeping the peace
Keep me a razor when I'm in the East
Open 'em up just like a surgery
Everything burnin' around me, all lit
Show a lil' attitude, swap out the bitch
I spent two-fifty, don't know where it went
My hood on my back, I gotta represent
Toronto, you useless you don't got a pole
Warm that boy up, he got shot in the cold
Thirty rounds in the clip, let it unload
I fucked a bitch I picked right out of Vogue
Took twenty bitches on my first vacay
I ain't pickin' up, I'm in Turks, lil' baby
Every other watch got diamonds in the face
Pullin' out, ask to take a taste, lil' baby
Pullin' out fifty racks, walkin' outta Chase
If I drop dead, I'll be hard to replace
Hardly get thirsty, got water like a lake
My brother got locked, another bond I gotta pay
Trappin' on the block, I'd never serve a cop
I always kept a Glock, I ain't 'bout to see the grave ('bout to see the grave)
Pull up, I make quick stop
I shop one-stop, I'm high for seven days (high for seven days)
Who is that lil' nigga I see hoppin' out a Wraith? (Hoppin' out a Wraith)
Chopper get it choppin' like a blade (chop)
You ain't get no money, but you poppin' on your page (poppin' on your page)
Trust me, we can never be the same (never be the same)
You know I like to flirt, no stress in Turks
I'm puttin' in work, I beat her outta frame (beat her outta frame)
(Wheezy outta here) She sweet, I was movin' off Perc
I bought her a Birk' and a birthday cake (birthday cake)
Line his ass up like a barber do the fade (barber do the fade)
Fed your ho crêpes and grapes (crepes and grapes)
Cash never wait, it's a billion on the way
We just split a billi' with the gang
Took twenty bitches on my first vacay
I ain't pickin' up, I'm in Turks, lil' baby
Every other watch got diamonds in the face
Pullin' out, ask to take a taste, lil' baby
Pullin' out fifty racks, walkin' outta Chase
If I drop dead, I'll be hard to replace
Hardly get thirsty, got water like a lake
My brother got locked, another bond I gotta pay
First time in Turks, got a whole bunch of work
Had to bring two jets, had a whole lot of babes (yeah)
I first take a game-changin' verse
Swear the change gon' hurt, but it really ain't a game (yeah)
Shorty like to twerk, I bring the rage (yeah)
Really get to trippin' on the stage
Never ever let 'em see the money 'less they pay (alright)
Niggas havin' beef, I hope they pray
Cactus Jack me up and down head to toe
Make sure the ones you with on go
And make sure the ones you with is with it
Make sure the ones you with ah, (yeah)
She need a quick tan, come to Turks with the G's
Work for that body, need more than degrees
Fillin' her nose with some shit I can ski with
Say this her first time, it's hard to believe
Took twenty bitches on my first vacay
I ain't pickin' up, I'm in Turks, lil' baby
Every other watch got diamonds in the face
Pullin' out, ask to take a taste, lil' baby
Pullin' out fifty racks, walkin' outta Chase
If I drop dead, I'll be hard to replace
Hardly get thirsty, got water like a lake
My brother got locked, another bond I gotta pay
Writer(s): Amir Esmallian, Jacques Webster, Navraj Goraya, Sergio Kitchens, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Turks
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