DullBlah[Intro]
*(Heavy guitar riff fades in with a distorted trap b**t, crowd chatter and domino tiles slamming in the background)*
[Verse 1]
Roll up, cracker squad, PAC in the trap,
Honkey havoc, puffin’ kush, sippin’ on that sack.
Nine-millimeter vibes, forty-five on the mat,
Bones clackin’, white boys wild—where the hell you at?
Dice in the gutter, dominoes slam like a gat,
Cheddar in the air, we ain’t playin’ for jack.
Hard-a*s crackers, got the block on lockdown,
Step to the crew? Better pray we back down.
[Chorus]
P.A.C., P.A.C., we the kings of the grit,
Weed smoke, whiskey shots—ain’t no quit in this clique.
Honkeys packin’ heat, yeah, we thumpin’ through the night,
Play your hand wrong, cracker—catch a bullet mid-flight.
[Verse 2]
Sweat-stained tanks, boots crusted in dirt,
Piss Ant legacy, we been breedin’ the hurt.
Redneck rage with a nu-metal twist,
Break bones, break rules—fist meets fist.
Backwoods blunt pass, every inhale a threat,
Cops circle slow, but they ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
We don’t start wars—we just finish ’em quick,
Dominos, dollars, and a whole lotta sick.
[Bridge]
*(Guitar solo screeches, b**t drops to muffled bass)*
Y’all don’t wanna ride where the PAC truck rolls,
White lightning tempers in these tattooed-up souls.
Trap-house temple, we the gods of the smoke,
Cross the line? Motherfucker—that’s the last joke.
[Chorus]
P.A.C., P.A.C., we the kings of the grit,
Weed smoke, whiskey shots—ain’t no quit in this clique.
Honkeys packin’ heat, yeah, we thumpin’ through the night,
Play your hand wrong, cracker—catch a bullet mid-flight.
[Outro]
*(Music fades with echoing domino slams, distant laughter, and a bottle shattering)*