Blammer

Fuck (****)

Shit

This a blammer, you get blammed tryna run down

Ugh, I got titties on an AR, this a hundred-round

Lil' gang want the kill, now you can't even escape (Uh)

Spread racks on my arm, this shit on display

Fuck spread racks, new money, this shit I just made

Call the fuckin' play back, what they want? They gettin' skimped anyway

Pussy **** ran last week, we catch him any day

You pussy, but you havin' pounds, lil' gang might run you down

Buddy got the zaza, where the strains, where the fuckin' pack?

Think you finna walk down on lil' Fast, better be on 'tack

I was in some real shit, I had to fuckin' think

Gang 'nem know we pop the ATMs and then we pour up drink

Think you finna try this shit? I don't know what lil' buddy think

Came in with racks, came in with drip, what the fuck you on?

I got hella plays, juggs on my phone

Run that shit, run your fuckin' sack, run your fuckin' load

Better get down with the fuckin' fye, or get out the road

I got fire for a pussy boy, pussy **** know, we gon'—

(Welcome to Clayton County, money, money only, bitch)

Gang mix Moonrocks, we on Moonrocks

Buddy draw down with a big-ass gun, run him out his socks

We can't lack inside the fuckin' dark, blickies already cocked

If you serious 'bout your fuckin' business, drop the fuckin' dot

We gon' end smoke with mystery when Fast poppin' out

I might put this shit on Fast, put this shit on me

Lil' bro said he's scared for his life, that's why he stay on beat

I can't go nowhere without that glizzy like it's glued to me

Any time lil' flame pop out, bitch, I got a tool or three

I ain't even gotta cock it back, know we smoke on rocket pack, gun down

Tired of fuckin' tryna scam a bank, they give me run 'round

He done tapped in with a villain, pussy, this a villain boy

I done put attachments on ARPs, I'm havin' different toys

Pull out pape', adjustin' shit, we got zaza in the bricks

Keepin' all my fuckin' sticks, lil' boy, I can't sell you shit

(Welcome to Clayton County, money, money only, bitch)

This the real zaza pack, not no regular weed

Promise I might walk a **** down in Top Villain tees

I might bring this shit out early, on the newest day

Lil' buddy tryna be an opper, gon' be my newest play

Put me on a dummy lick, bet I make it out

It's a drought inside the fuckin' hood, run inside your house

I forgot to bring my ski today, but I'm poppin' out

On that drank, it got me feelin' down, got me leanin' down

You won't catch lil' Lazer trimmin' 'round, catch me out of bounds

**** know lil' Fast fuckin' step, walk down and you left

You get blowed down, 12 poppin' out, ain't no more standin' 'round

Do a dirty crime, we in the trench, we in the dirty bricks

Pussy boys ain't gettin' no fuckin' money, they doin' dirty shit

I got crumbs on my scale, he think this a fairytale

Walk down with some shit, everybody gon' back back, phew, phew

(Welcome to Clayton County, money, money only, bitch)

Fuck, shit