1GUN/BLAST OFF! Lyrics

1 gun no mask

Pull up on yo broke ass

You can't get away I swear the coupe is going so fast

Tell me where the drop at

I might have to cop that

Demon time shorty you can't tell me when to stop that

I-I-I just poured a four inside a deuce

Fuck that friendly shit ain't with it I ain't never made a truce

If you talking Something Different then you talking bout the dudes

My lil blade all on my gun I stab him twice and then I shoot

Woah, fuck that shit I'm feeling rude

Don't get lucky but I swear to god I feel just like I'm Tune

This a Prada bag Prada shoes I ain't Prada you

St-Stepping in Maison Margiela posted with the crew

I was selling drugs ain't get no love

So I went and took the money from their favorite fucking plug

Not a game it's a way

Make it out getting paid

17 that's the gang

I could do this shit for days

Big ass heater on the desk

Said that she an eater I don't even want the sex

Limited edition 1 of 1 in my condition

It's a lotta wasted talent make me really wanna get it

I was cooking in the kitchen

Chef'ing whipping with the wrist

I got a lotta demons talking to me they ain't saying shit

Yeah they said that lil white boy rap his ass off

Out in broad day with the mask off

Hit him with the hacksaw

Brodie taking face like he facing all the bath salts

She gimme Jimmy what the brain do? blast off

(Jimmy what the brain do? Blast off)

Out in broad day with the mask off

She gimme Jimmy what the brain do blast off

Get the bags off

Then I blast off

She gimme Jimmy bitch I blast off

Out in broad day with the mask off

Bitch I blast off

And lil brodie pulling face like it's bath salts

Feel like Jimmy bitch I blast off

In LA broad day with the mask off

Bitch I blast off

And my homie pulling face like it's bath salts