[Intro: King Von]
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

[Verse 1: 30 Deep Grimeyy]
You the same n***a 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 n***as 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' n***as n pastsa
Ask DP what I was doin' before I flew out to Miami
Fuck the floor, hit through the 50 make them roach n***as panic
How the fuck y'all let me get the ups
And y'all was outside lampin'
I let Murda out on [?] 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 bleed bought
[Verse 2: NLE Choppa]
Got in the jam and started yappin’, you could call him TED Talk
We known for shooting n***as 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
Yea, we droppin' the opps I hit 2 in a row
It's a hundred-some shots when we step in the show
If I go broke I'mma 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 n***a killed, then put him in a rhyme
Bitch I'm a murder poet
Shoot a n***a 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' (Brrr brrr)
N***a play, swear to God we shoot him in the face
It's broad day with that murder shit, cause we gon' beat the case ( Ayy)