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Scotty ATL - 7 Days A Week [Radio Version]

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Directed by Scotty ATL ( @Scotty ATL )
Co-Directed/Shot by Jon Alexander (@chillseason)
"7 Days A Week" prod. by Chefry Kitchen & DT the Kid

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Scotty ATL‘s hits:
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#ScottyATL #7Days #TrappinGold

Lyrics:
Seven days a week, trappin up the street
Let the kids help, count it up and eat
Hit up Dominique, aye we needa hawk
Bird talk cheap, get up off me
Re-up back feeding, they don’t want smoke
We gone make a scene, pants full of green
Lungs full of green, pillow talk no
You can have the bih, I don’t want the bih
She don’t know the steez, baby this rare
Living what we rap, we don’t use cap
Foreign in the air, blowing on the best
Ran into the nicca, he ain’t want nun
Lacking on sleep, pistol in reach
Heavy on the G’s, neck on freeze
Mouth full of V’s, praying on my knees
Cash money weezy, palm get greased
Crispy hot wings, tell her blue cheese
I’m a trustee, you a musty
Talking sideways then I must speak
I’m a big dawg, you a Maltese
Pain in my voice, I’m forever true
Ocean on the view, doggy on the screw
Hustling wit a boo, head in the coupe
Blow me like a soup, made it thru poop 💩

Won’t give u none, gone take dat
Be a real nigga don’t fake it
We talking millions at the least
Whole lotta niccas don’t make dat
Dats wit the curtains closed
We talking sex in the Maybach
Whole lotta niccas don’t sleep
Think about dat wen u lay back
Won’t give u nun

Seven days a week, trappin up the street
Let the kids help, count it up and eat
On a winning streak, almost got weak
Let me get a peek, stepper like Greek
Big boy set, really I’m a vet
Pull up in a Vette, I don’t get debt
Damn dat pussy wet, Scotty is a threat
Live wit no regret, dice on the jet
Always make money, neva stop gettin it
Shoutout Eastside, flipping 6 figures
Drop top wit a mop top having Guap talk
Making Big plans, got a trip plan
Tell Halle berry I'm a big fan
Dis a big deal, I’m independent
I make move no big deal
I trap gold, dis perm cut, wit a smile like 11 bands
I can’t dap nicca left hand
They ain’t wanna let a nicca in
I got diamonds baby let dance
Who gone ball yea let’s see
I got bread baby let’s eat
Give me head baby dats sweet
Rolling out the p, penthouse suite

Won’t give u none, gone take dat
Be a real nigga don’t fake it
We talking millions at the least
Whole lotta niccas don’t make dat
Dats wit the curtains closed
We talking sex in the Maybach
Whole lotta niccas don’t sleep
Think about dat wen u lay back
Won’t give u nun

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