BLAMMER

Lyrics

[Intro] Fuck (Nigga) Shit [Verse 1] 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 nigga 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 nigga know, we gon'— (Welcome to Clayton County, money, money only, bitch) [Verse 2] 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) [Verse 3] This the real zaza pack, not no regular weed Promise I might walk a nigga 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 Niggas 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 [Outro] (Welcome to Clayton County, money, money only, bitch) Fuck, shit