Lyrics:
(They tryna blackball me)
Kept shit 100 from the beginning
(They tryna blackball me)
They wanna see me lose everything I got
(They tryna blackball me
Yo, aye look 5th wheel straight hangin'
Grip the grain, I'm swangin'
It's Texas all on my roots boy
Ain't no point in me changing
On 45, trunk
100 bands, keep it in the pants
Your girl buys my brands, keeps me by her hands
100 bands, keep it in the pants
Your girl buys my brands, gotta
Dew (niggas be greener than a bitch)
Niggas be green as fuck; Spring bloom (like 100 acres)
Niggas be green as hell; Middle of June (middle of summer)
what I'll probably hear
Sharkskin is what I'll probably wear, designed by Pierre, trust me
And look lovely with it
Cop a 4.2 and get ugly with it, snugly
Yea Cause when I hit the block I just be burning up the gas
Clutching on some hundreds
Glock in the dash
Rollin with the stashbox
Woods and the glass
Cherry wood grain
Two own them benz
Glass top switching lane
Hundred thousand acres
10 on the heal
Over city view
Get it how you live
Down in
(They tryna blackball me)
Kept s*** 100 from the beginning
(They tryna blackball me)
They wanna see me lose everything I got
(They tryna blackball me
When the heart of the hundred acre wood is beating
And time is passing through
There's a shadow looking like a rainbows halo
And there I'm
don't think that you understand fully
They tell me "be safe" so I know they riding
Still they know by my lonely I'm goodie
On my way to where you should
the bag with 2 arms
Got the weed coming by the acres
Look like I robbed 2 farms
Jamaican cartel pull up, Fat Bwoy say "wahgwan?"
I just hit 'em like
away, turn away.
I'm amazed, I'm embarrassed,I'm ashamed to say
I locked myself away,
But the uncarved block remains.
Return me to the 100 acre wood
soon.
Now I wandered much further today than I should,
And I can't find my way to the three-acre wood.
So help me if you can, I've got to get
Back
going demon hunting (brrraa)
Call me Vinatieri
We kicking shit
Three and out
We punting
1-2-2-4 rings
I need a sling
I got crippled by money (yeah)
another wood I'm tryna feel different
Ma you won't believe it I made a million just off my feelings
Turn me up keep it on speaker they gotta hear this
papa watching over me
Papa watching over me
Growing up on a backroad
Papa's land it'll never get sold
Nine acres of woods we built a tree house on
twins with me like I'm Johnny Test
I just bring the woods they grab the liquor and you guess the rest
Nigga you know how shit go down
I'm tryna be the man
Jamaica
Guh let mi tell yuh
Seh mi know 'bout Jamaica (Well watcha man)
Jamaica is a land where full of adventure
Land of gold and sunshine and
Mi seh wood
Antisocial I ain't talkin to em
And my patnas anti homie watch the Way you walk up to em
Fuck a drive by I'm from a city where Niggaz walk up to em
from yo' friends
Fuckin models, drinkin Alize by the bottles
Eleven hundred ??, and my hand's on the throttle
Chorus: Snoop Dogg (paraphrasing Masta
that bitch do is run her mouth, nigga
On the right but that bitch got a Sprint phone (hello)
Man she got about 100 acres
Enough yard for me to put
a step
I can make a hundred thousand just sitting by the steps
I can count a hundred thousand with my feet in the chair
I can pull the baddest broad in
on the rise
There's no room for failure
Realize the plot and the moves
I make is major
Hustle and grow
Can't go slow
Need me some acres
Rally the troops
But
Even full of more meds than a cancer patient
I could show you how to grind like a brake pad
I got a hundred acre island with a helipad
No key, start
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