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letra de dinner's served - 30 deep grimeyy & nwm cee murdaa

[intro: 30 deep grimeyy]
give a f-ck what i got—
don’t give a f-ck what i got on
grimeyy!
don’t give a f-ck what i got on, n-gga
h-lluva made this beat, baby
grimeyy!

[chorus: 30 deep grimeyy]
don’t give a f-ck ’bout what i’m in, don’t give a f-ck what i got on
caught ’em slackin’, wise-crackin’, now there’s blood on my vlones
stl the murder cap’, they wanna knock me off my throne
b-tch, i’m guwap wit’ this chop, you’d think gucci had a clone
don’t give a f-ck ’bout what i’m in, don’t give a f-ck what i got on
caught ’em slackin’, wise-crackin’, now there’s blood on my—
stl the murder cap’, they wanna knock me off my throne
b-tch, i’m guwap wit’ this chop, you’d think gucci had a clone

[verse 1: 30 deep grimeyy]
25k up on the lawyer, bay-bay 30s fightin’ a body
taught these rappers what they know, you know grimeyy mr. miyagi
say it’s smoke, we hit thеy block wit’ 30 plus and left it foggy
n-ggas froze, pistol thawed thеy ass out and left ’em soggy
call my certified tweakers, i say “yep,” they get the job done
bet’ not give yo’ pistol to big pistol, he gon’ scrob sumn’
put the .40 to his mouth for dna, i’m tryna’ swab sumn’
30 deep the gang, b-tch, we comin’ like the mob come
30 deep the gang, b-tch, we comin’ like the mafia
better get yo’ weapon when we comin’, ain’t no stoppin’ us
uncle elroy in this versace, keep my choppa’ tucked
but this barbeque, don’t go down there, b-tch, come and shop wit’ us
[chorus: 30 deep grimeyy]
don’t give a f-ck ’bout what i’m in, don’t give a f-ck what i got on
caught ’em slackin’, wise-crackin’, now there’s blood on my vlones
stl the murder cap’, they wanna knock me off my throne
b-tch, i’m guwap wit’ this chop, you’d think gucci had a clone
don’t give a f-ck ’bout what i’m in, don’t give a f-ck what i got on
caught ’em slackin’, wise-crackin’, now there’s blood on my vlones
stl the murder cap’, they wanna knock me off my throne
b-tch, i’m guwap wit’ this chop, you’d think gucci had a clone

[verse 2: nwm cee murdaa]
when i get a rolls royce, i’m puttin’ double-cs on it
cover my face before a drill, i gotta’ put a ski on it
if you want a verse from me and grimeyy, it’s a fee, homie
say they want smoke, too many died, now they sayin’ they don’t want it
’cause this sh-t’ll have you chokin’, .308s hot like a sauna
b-tch, my daddy caught some bodies, call me a son of a gunna’
f-ck a pair of balenciagas, i got ’em on, i’m still comin’
yeah, i’ll still hawk a n-gga down, i’ma step on ’em in my runners
i’m a problem
ain’t talkin’ about taylor, still got 50 on his choppa’
i grew up off the porch, i ain’t really have a option
i shot him at revive, doctor still couldn’t revive him
mix moncler and prada, and still i—

[chorus: 30 deep grimeyy]
don’t give a f-ck ’bout what i’m in, don’t give a f-ck what i got on
caught ’em slackin’, wise-crackin’, now there’s blood on my vlones
stl the murder cap’, they wanna knock me off my throne
b-tch, i’m guwap wit’ this chop, you’d think gucci had a clone
don’t give a f-ck ’bout what i’m in, don’t give a f-ck what i got on
caught ’em slackin’, wise-crackin’, now there’s blood on my vlones
stl the murder cap’, they wanna knock me off my throne
b-tch, i’m guwap wit’ this chop, you’d think gucci had a clone
[outro: nwm cee murdaa]
mmm, mm-mm
now one more time

- 30 deep grimeyy nwm cee murdaa

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