30 Deep Grimeyy

"Shooting Guard"

Motherf*cker talking 'bout lately
I been slackly n*gga, I don’t slack n*gga, ya know?
We don't slack n*gga, we crack n*ggas, ya know?
I don't slack off
Just streets, family, that’s an insult. I work hard, ya know?

Pulled up to the spot, she blocked my number, she working with the goofies
I done spent 'bout 20 on some chops for some n*ggas yelling dookie
DP out in Salem with that hammer he shoot a movie
Love my baby momma even though she out here popping coochie
Going through some things with my gang b*tch I feel like Boosie
Baybay in the slammer with the opps you know he getting groovy
I just blew a bag on some Glocks I want a f*cking UZI
Rest in Peacе to Streetz its on his grave that he'll take your tooliе

[Verse 1]
You ain't never stalked a n*gga page just to wack his ass
You ain't never bought something from the mall just to take it back
Hit the club like I was clean, I was faking, had to tuck the tag
Gucci was the wheel man, you say his name and my lil shorties trap
2012 we was demons even though we had one hammer
Only thing I verse God n*gga and my gun jammed
I got b*tches over seas, some in college go to Alabama
Red [?] from Palm Beach, my brown skin from Louisana
[?] mad when I slid, he had a point but I ain't wanna listen
You heard I got a bag, you broke my heart, but now you tryna fix it
We ain't had no cable growing up, sh*t all you heard was creaking
Now I'm in Miami, wanna see me, gotta book a ticket
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