Grim Reapa Flow (feat. NLE Choppa)

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
You know we gonna fuck up, oh yeah, go crazy in this bitch (ThizzBeatz)

You the same nigga duckin', rec in jail, tuckin' your tail
I put ten on him, and ten on him (sheesh), just sent that shit through Zelle
I told pistol, "Whack the bitch", he get locked up, he makin' bail (boom-boom-boom)
Swisha known for crackin' shit, he catch a roach, another L

"Grimeyy this" and "Grimeyy that", bitch, keep my name out yo' mouth
All that cappin' 'bout some murders, they know that ain't what they 'bout
Catch him with his baby mama (come here boy), hit that bitch all in her scalp
I've been runnin' up my numbers, gang'll never see a drought (woo)

We ain't been hot since Nelly nem, I put my city on my back
C&C and Ville Gang, you know I'm fuckin' with the track (gang)
The opps got booked for stealin' phones? Tell the feds to free the rats (punk ass)
Bitch tried to charge me for some coochie, so I kicked her out the trap (ew)

What the fuck happened to dude? He got hit all in his head (damn)
"Grimeyy please, let him breathe", shouldn't've 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 ten on him and ten on him, that's why them niggas droppin' (body)
Tell my bitch to wheel him in, so we could knock out all his pasta (boom-boom)
I've been Gucci in Miami, don't get hit up with this flakka
Opps slide, Brick Squad, when they be shootin' niggas and pasta

Ask DP what I was doin' before I flew out to Miami
Fuck the floor, hit through the 50, make 'em roach niggas panic (skrrt-skrrt)
How the fuck y'all let me get the ups, and y'all was outside lampin'?
I let Murda out on feet, he caught him slippin' so we stamp him (come here)

Shoutout K9 Wavy Navy, know I fuck with NLE (crip)
I got bitches all in Cali', got a bitch in NYC
Dallas, Texas, Calabasas, know they fuck with 30 Deep (body)
Don't make me call up OTF, DQ gon' slang that ARP (gang)

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 yo' 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 Blade Ball

Got in the jam and started yappin', you could call him TED Talk (rat)
We known for shootin' niggas in the back, so don't you run off (brrt)
Any weather, we gon' serve it, we gon' get the birds off (brrt)
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 hunnid-some shots when we step in the show (step in the show)
If I go broke, I'ma stretch me a 'bow (stretch me a 'bow)
Say I shot who? What you talkin' 'bout bro? (Uh?)

Reach for my chain, put a tag on yo' toe, I'm in the studio, high as a ho (high as a ho)
If you try to rob me, it's a high and a low, the high is the face shot, the low is the blow (brrt)
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 (yeah)

Pull up, and hop out, I spray, spray, spray (we spray, spray, spray)
Always gotta keep me a K or a Drac' (brrt)
Nigga play, swear to God we shoot him in the face (we shoot him)
It's broad day with that murder shit, 'cause we gon' beat the case (we gon' beat the case)



Credits
Writer(s): Igor Padoriv, Arthur James Pressley Iii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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