[Intro: BandGang Biggs]
(1st done geeked it up)
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

[Verse 1: BandGang Biggs]
Rap check, trap check, n***a, it's all the same (Same shit)
I'm hearin' rumors in the streets, they thinkin' I'm to blame
Dog got dropped, it wasn't me, just blame it on his mouth
I heard what happened, I'm like, "Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout" (That's what I'm talkin' 'bout)
I don't condone lies, don't know no n***as tellin'
Can't bring you 'round none of my n***as 'cause we all felons (All of us)
Can't let you trick me off the streets, boy, I've been to the feds
Your bitch look pretty on her knees while she give me head
I'm rubbin' through her hair, she rubbin' on my nuts
She likе to treat me like a king 'causе I be gettin' bucks (Racks)
She know not to disrespect me 'cause I don't give a fuck
Don Julio, Añejo got me really stuck
Heard it was money on my head, I gotta laugh now
'Cause them last n***as you sent, they did a bad job
I made it home that same night, but Derrick bathtime
Kidnap a n***a, answer the phone like it's a bad time (Who is this?)
I roll with Bathing Apes, they beatin' on they chest
That mean all rise like court, judge leave you stretched
This a designer joggy, don't fuck with Nike Tech
My n***as in them jail cells, still call me collect
[Chorus: BandGang Lonnie Bands]
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
Talkin' K.O.D, Biggs, Lonnie, Boldy
Huh, live like a king, die like a king
Boy, that's like Bron, Jordan, Kobe
Street dream team, fifteen rings

[Verse 2: BandGang Lonnie Bands]
When I say K.O.D, I ain't tryna say I'm the best
Talkin' 'bout I got them kis on deck
You want a FDA-approved script, n***as
Or you want 'em pressed?
Can the Khalid rub shoulders with the stars?
But I found me a connect
The other side really really really thought we was soft
Until ten of them got whacked
I ran my pape' to the Milky Way
N***a
We sell them chickens on Sunday, nah, we ain't Chick-fil-A
I got fat and I got out of shape
My fiend brought me ten more fiends, I let him keep the shake
I got pounds of that shit you freeze up your drank
I can teach you lil' n***as how to ice skate, huh
They fucked up lettin' us wear these masks on our face
Now my lil' n***a only wanna kill on tape
Huh, boy, you know that dope real, it got a bad taste
You know what pawn play with a king, he get checkmate
[Chorus: BandGang Lonnie Bands]
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
If we talkin' K.O.D, Biggs, Lonnie, Boldy
Huh, live like a king, die like a king
Boy, that's like Bron, Jordan, Kobe
Street dream team, fifteen rings

[Verse 3: GlockBoyz TeeJaee]
N***a, rookie of the year just like AI, I'm a GOAT
Told my n***as I don't wanna change, I'll up the score
I'm the type to be on your ass and I won't let nobody know
N***a, I might leave the crib without my phone, but bet I got a dirty pole, n***a
Too many n***as come around and I'm gon' act like I don't know n***as
Ran through the ten-clip so fast, damn, I wish I had some more in it
Man, I break the law for real, so I don't hang around no ho n***as
My n***a Lonnie got a bag so big, he can make the snow with it
I ain't the n***a you tryna beef with
Last skit I pulled, I woke up, went and used my gun and went to sleep with it
I only came for two days, you lucky I ain't come a week with it
I let the XD make some music, Boom tryna get a feat' with it (Tryna)
I ain't tryna go to no club (I ain't tryna)
Free my n***a Deep, they gave him lightyears like Buzz
N***a, free my n***a Date, robbed your mans, put his ass in that tub
We ain't used to have no funds, we wasn't tryna have no fun, n***a
[Chorus: BandGang Lonnie Bands]
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
If we talkin' K.O.D, Biggs, Lonnie, Boldy
Huh, live like a king, die like a king
Boy, that's like Bron, Jordan, Kobe
Street dream team, fifteen rings

[Verse 4: Boldy James]
Block
Press play on my opps with this SK
.556s cavin' in a n***a chestplate
Gang turned concrete, you know we regulate
Seal him up in cellophane, wrap him in electric tape
N***as catch a case and facin' L's on premeditated
Get him in that backroom and they gotta separate it
Turn a split to a biggie fry and get a four way
Pull up in fifty IS6, smoke gray
Paid for the pussy, came over like the Kobe way
Blow same color as the whip, we don't rollplay (Where we at?)
Know my shooter got Tourette's, he'll shape somethin'
All these stamps gettin' pressed up, I feel a raid comin'
They hundred-dollar graham crackers go for eighty dollars
Scale on the counter right next to them baby bottles
Quadruple OG, me and Chi Chi
From Mack Town to one official bag down to beach [?]

[Chorus: BandGang Lonnie Bands]
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
How the fuck we under thirty? Triple OGs
Triple OGs
Talkin' K.O.D, Biggs, Lonnie, Boldy
Huh, live like a king, die like a king
Boy, that's like Bron, Jordan, Kobe
Street dream team, fifteen rings

[Outro]
(1st done geeked it up)