Lyrics:
strapped, or be a throwaway
Will I survive the late night, to see dawn of day?
Nobody knows me, I'm a shadow
My army fatigues made for battle, pockets full
Dj khaled, we're the best, nigga we're the best man
Whoo we nikka (listen)
Just got a hundred of that brown paper bag money
You niggas really
Cleaning up the side of the jack
256 hundred out the days of the year
Blue skies how to die
Looking bloody close your eyes
Cough it out
Spit it out
feel
But I love her just the same and I'm not ashamed
To be graced by her presence
You see I praise her
I praise her like I praise the heavens
a hundred
at you.
I spend a hundred thousand bands in a week.
I spend a hundred thousand bands in a night.
I spend a hundred thousand bands in a day.
I spend
and hundreds and look at the gang they love me now
They like bro is you coming these niggas be hunting they looking for bread they hungry now
Late nights with
Bring a bag into my life
Hundred racks by my side
Bring a bag into my life
Hundred racks by my side
Bring a bag into my life
Hundred racks by my
and starry night
But you light up my room
I will run away with you one hundred thousand times
Before I live one life without you by my side
I will run away
doing a good job
And hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of people
No water, I fought for my country for years
We need help, we really need help
In
a 4 way take A Zip Out (Ha)
Keep 30 round in my clip now (Strapped)
This a FN this A Big Fye
I'ma roll a 100 dollar 3.5 (Say what?)
You know my trap
foreplay, den di fuckin follow
Coulda night or day
Yuh punny tight it nuh hollow
Give it to you bad, bawl yuh ah bawl-a
Mi ah kick it hard, juss like a baller
Plenty of us puttin' fronts up, plenty lovin all the smoke and mirrors
That glass is not transparent but that message crystal clear
By and large,
the two-tone
I wear it at night, turn the lights off
I take off on the jet, nigga
With a hundred bands and a TEC, nigga
I take off, no jet lag
Spend that
a longer day
A 15 hour private flight
Champagne, paper planes
'Cause I'm about to pop a xan'
Wake me up when we land
Nothing less than 100 racks up
strapped, or be a throwaway
Will I survive the late night, to see dawn of day?
Nobody knows me, I'm a shadow
My army fatigues made for battle, pockets full
give me everything, baby ain't no doubt
Give me 100, need you 100 percent
I wanna be the one you call, every day and night
Are you gonna be the one who's
A Hundred Pounds Of Clay
Gene McDaniels
Highest chart position # 3 in 1961
Written by Bob Elgin, Luther Dixon, and Kay Roger
He took
hundred
I just copped a hundred (Man, Bitch better fuck sumn!)
Got syrup by the liter, bitch, homie, I'ma beat it
Catch the pussy like Jeter haa
Picture
Now these bitches wanna pop it and they pop it for some fame
Back up in the days, I would never see your face
Now like every single night, she want pop
come round and you can unwind
Smoke two spliff and wine and dine
Bus up di dance put the ting on rewind
Spend a day with me and you want the night
A 100
really matters
Bitch, bitch, there's a hundred here, yeah
Caps a hundred here, yeah
Sheets a hundred here
Yeah, yeah, yeah
When shapes turn to heirlooms
come around
Five hundred thousand on that bitch in one day, she stayin' down
I got two wanna come take me out on the lake like right now
I need two
Cudi
Day n Night
Every Night
Day n Night
I feel like I'm Cudi
Day n Night
I should be sponsored by gin
I guess I vent when i'm bent
All to myself like
efforts are negated by the passive observers.
*
They spend days before the T.V. set so burned out,
Is it any wonder they've lost all sense of vision
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