Deep End

Guap Tarantino & Calboy - Rap, Atlanta Rap
Deep End
3 Plays
Lyrics
[Intro: Guap Tarantino] Ayy, ayy Ooh, ooh (DMC, you global now, nigga) Ooh, ooh Yak, slatty, smoke it (Ooh, ooh, ayy) [Chorus: Guap Tarantino & Calboy] Got to get that bag 'cause I need it (Woo) Got a thot and she not from this region (Yeah) Told that bitch to fuck me like she mean it (What?) Ayy, don't you go tweakin' (Let's go) Got a bro in the cut and he creepin' (Brr) Yeah, I from the deep end (Woo) Better watch what you say, it get heated (Yeah, yeah) Swear that niggas gon' die from what he did I was chasin' that cake, now it's all on me (All on me) I had to go get racks causally (I) I ain't gon' fuck on a girl causally Yeah, none of these pills in me Fuck with my gang, get some stress with me I'm in my own lane, ain't no catchin' me (Yeah, yeah) I keep that stick, nigga pressin' me I got that bag, ain't no missin' me (R-R-racks, sheesh) [Verse 1: Guap Tarantino & Calboy] I just want count up the dead He get to tweakin', it's off with his head (Off with his head) Heard he want play with that bread I'm sendin' shots and I mean what I said (Mean what I said) Bitch, I be rollin' in red Roll up da Glock I won't aim at his leg (Won't aim at his leg) Bitch, I've been rollin' off meds Pop a lil perc and fuck her like I'm Ed Had to fuck her on a meds (Meds) I had to count me a check (Check) I can't fuck with them young niggas Gangin' and robin', came with the sadness I keep poppin' these percs and rodness I just keep countin' them dead (Racks, racks, racks) Lil boy, get that pressure off your chest (Lil boy) Boy, you're broke and she leave disgraced (Leaved disgraced) [Chorus: Guap Tarantino & Calboy] Got to get that bag 'cause I need it (Woo) Got a thot and she not from this region (Yeah) Told that bitch to fuck me like she mean it (What?) Ayy, don't you go tweakin' (Let's go) Got a bro in the cut and he creepin' (Brr) Yeah, I from the deep end (Woo) Better watch what you say, it get heated (Yeah, yeah) Swear that niggas gon' die from what he did I was chasin' that cake, now it's all on me (All on me) I had to go get racks causally (I) I ain't gon' fuck on a girl causally Yeah, none of these pills in me Fuck with my gang, get some stress with me I'm in my own lane, ain't no catchin' me I keep that stick, nigga pressin' me (Yeah) I got that bag, ain't no missin' me [Verse 2: Guap Tarantino & Calboy] Nigga want smoke, but a nigga don't love that I got two hoes with me gettin' real bypass My body a Gucci, a Pucci, Chanel on my neck The water so fine that she try it In my high school, we was servin' them lessons We might get kicked out for fightin' Yeah, I'm in a mouth like "I try that" (Ooh racks) See got I sight it I bought a Birkin 'cause my bitch a hotie I had to get off the molly I got a fifty, might catch me a body Most of my niggas do killings and robbery's Feelin' like perkys 'cause we 'bout to body I fell in love with this icey, it's callin' I got a new bitch, she look like a model I told her "Suck on this dick like a bottle" [Chorus: Guap Tarantino & Calboy] Got to get that bag 'cause I need it (Woo) Got a thot and she not from this region (Yeah) Told that bitch to fuck me like she mean it (What?) Ayy, don't you go tweakin' (Let's go) Got a bro in the cut and he creepin' (Brr) Yeah, I from the deep end (Woo) Better watch what you say, it get heated (Yeah, yeah) Swear that niggas gon' die from what he did I was chasin' that cake, now it's all on me (All on me) I had to go get racks causally (I) I ain't gon' fuck on a girl causally Yeah, none of these pills in me Fuck with my gang, get some stress with me I'm in my own lane, ain't no catchin' me (Yeah, yeah) I keep that stick, nigga pressin' me (Brr) I got that bag, ain't no missin' me (R-R-racks, sheesh)
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Credits
- Writers
- Guap Tarantino
- Calboy