Songtexte Grim Reapa Flow (feat. NLE Choppa) - NLE Choppa , 30 Deep Grimeyy
You
know
what
the
fuck
goin'
on
It's
your
boy,
King
Von
We
in
this
bitch,
Stretch
Gang
Get
Back
Gang,
that
my
boy
30
Deep
in
this
bitch
Oh
yeah,
go
crazy
in
this
bitch
You
the
same
nigga
duckin'
Rec'
in
jail,
tuckin'
your
tail
I
put
10
on
him,
and
10
on
him
Just
sent
that
shit
through
Zelle
I
told
pistol
"Whack
the
bitch"
He
get
locked
up,
he
makin'
bail
Swisha
known
for
crackin'
shit
He
catch
a
roach,
another
L
"Grimeyy
this"
and
"Grimeyy
that"
Bitch,
keep
my
name
out
your
mouth
All
that
cappin'
bout
some
murders
They
know
that
ain't
what
they
'bout
Catch
him
with
his
baby
mama
Hit
that
bitch
all
in
her
scalp
I've
been
runnin'
up
my
numbers
Gang'll
never
see
a
drought
We
ain't
been
hot
since
Nelly
'n
them
I
put
my
city
on
my
back
C
& C
and
Ville
gang
You
know
I'm
fuckin'
with
the
tracc
The
opps
got
booked
for
stealing
phones?
Tell
the
feds
to
free
the
rats
Bitch
tried
to
charge
me
for
some
coochie
So
I
kicked
her
out
the
trap
What
the
fuck
happened
to
dude?
He
got
hit
all
in
his
head!
(Damn!)
"Grimeyy
please,
let
him
breathe!"
Shouldn't
have
said
what
he
said
If
them
crackers
come
and
get
me
I'ma
grow
me
out
some
dreads
Crazy
E
do
drills
for
free
But
he
work
better
off
the
meds
I
put
10
on
him
and
10
on
him
That's
why
them
niggas
droppin'
Tell
my
bitch
to
wheel
him
in
So
we
could
knock
out
all
his
pasta
I've
been
Gucci
in
Miami
Don't
get
hit
up
with
this
flakka
Opps
slide,
Brick
Squad
When
they
be
shootin'
niggas
n
pasta
Ask
DP
what
I
was
doin'
before
I
flew
out
to
Miami
Fuck
the
floor,
hit
through
the
50
make
them
roach
niggas
panic
How
the
fuck
y'all
let
me
get
the
ups
And
y'all
was
outside
lampin'
I
let
Murda
out
on
50,
he
caught
him
slippin'
so
we
stamp
him
Shoutout
K9
Wavy
Navy,
know
I
fuck
with
NLE
(Crip!)
I
got
bitches
all
in
Cali,
got
a
bitch
in
NYC
Dallas,
Texas,
Calabassas,
know
they
fuck
with
30
Deep
Don't
make
me
call
up
OTF,
DQ
gon'
slang
that
ARP
Lil
Reggie
threw
up
on
a
drill,
he
seen
me
take
his
head
off
You
try
to
take
off
with
a
P,
TayTay
gon'
take
your
legs
off
Tony
Montana,
keep
a
hammer,
come
see
what
this
lead
'bout
30
Deep
the
gang,
that's
what
I
bang
I
did
some
time
in
bledball
Got
in
the
jam
and
started
yappin',
you
could
call
him
TED
Talk
We
known
for
shooting
niggas
in
the
back,
so
don't
you
run
off
Any
weather,
we
gon'
serve
it,
we
gon'
get
the
birds
off
Get
the
witness,
we
gon'
kill
him
'fore
he
get
his
words
out
Yeah,
we
droppin'
the
opps,
I
hit
two
in
a
row
It's
a
hundred-some
shots
when
we
step
in
the
show
If
I
go
broke,
I'ma
stretch
me
a
'bow
Say
I
shot
who?
What
you
talkin'
'bout
bro?
Reach
for
my
chain,
put
a
tag
on
your
toe
I'm
in
the
studio
high
as
a
hoe
If
you
try
to
rob
me,
it's
a
high
and
a
low
The
high
is
the
face
shot,
the
low
is
the
blow
Shot
in
the
crowd,
he
died,
I
ain't
know
Shoot
in
the
air,
'cause
his
soul
was
floatin'
Get
a
nigga
killed,
then
put
him
in
a
rhyme
Bitch,
I'm
a
murder
poet
Shoot
a
nigga
like
a
Polaroid
My
dawg
caught
a
body,
I
told
him,
"Do
it"
Whenever
we
see
him,
we
gettin'
into
it
My
bullets
don't
stutter,
them
bitches,
they
fluent
Pull
up,
and
hop
out,
I
spray,
spray,
spray
(we
spray,
spray,
spray)
Always
gotta
keep
me
a
'K
or
a
Drac'
(brr
brr)
Nigga
play,
swear
to
God
we
shoot
him
in
the
face
It's
broad
day
with
that
murder
shit
'Cause
we
gon'
beat
the
case
(ye,
aye)

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