Lyrics:
Hundred bands we don't dance
With the ramz whats the chance
That your mans made of glass
Bit the hand he got rassed
Getting tanned if you pass by
spoke
They'd probably find me in the woods hanging from a rope
Instead they lock me in the cell just for sellin' dope
When people told me I was signed
to speakin'
Bitches be tweakin'
You see me rollin'
I put the keef around the wood it make it potent
Hennessey and energy I blend it it's the potion
Move in
kill me 'fore I'm thirty-six
Stop my lifeline, I'm tryin to hundred thousand dollar car and ice mine
Predicate felon, lifetime
Consecutive cases, no
(come here, come here)
Livin' to a hundred and three, that's the OG Grape in me
Auntie wanna pray for me, better pray for my enemies
Life ain't gave me
told me that they don't grow much anymore
Cut down in an instant for lumber
Hundred years to grow back maybe never
I could see it there
I remember how
was barely awake
We hadn’t even made the tea
By the river’s side, three of us died
My momma, my sister and me
My momma, my sister and me
Six hundred
here
Order up a beer
And join me for awhile
Time goes by fast enough
We don't need to give it a shove
We don't need to give it a shove
Take it easy take
I'm here and y'all know they've been waitin' for me
Since I was 15, now I'm Yella, a hundred miles and runnin'
Easy come and easy go, that's why I
sun waiting for the world to plummet
Finished growing up under my uncle's roof
He taught me how to count all the way up to 100 proof
From watching him I
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
need it passive
And 40 acres in the mule for the middle passage
In the cool of the day in the garden
Made a cool 100k shit talkin
She said, meet me
works at an
Antique shop just a few miles from
Here" So she drew me a map and
I started on my way to Anna's
Sometime later
I arrived at this elfin shop
you're by me, girl (by me, girl)
Jump all around me, girl, yeah, ayy (yeah)
Do your thing 'cause you got it, girl
Think with your body, girl (your body,
Gang
Wake up
Finna flame up
Counting up a hundred
Thinking bout my next buck
Hold it down for the city I could never let up
How many rounds i got 50
from Asia
All out the wood works, hood shirts and wizards
No match, unhatch, the rap is rigid
In the shaft, shotty cop, hip hop to the limit
a factory on ol' farmland
Producing lumber, woody wagons, and gliders by hand
Charcoal made from rough scrap wood
Red, hot briquettes, man, the grillin'
take a picture
You peeping me take a picture (You should take a photograph)
Catch me today with a cannon or a Kodak
Cause by tomorrow yesterday gone be
trynna' do
Brand new AMG it's black, I just took off the roof
Hundreds on me and they blue
Geeked up with my guys goin 150 in the coupe
These boys be acting
on the back side, of Magic Mountain
And ain't no rides no games no shows and ain't no water fountain
Five, hundred acres of land
Plenty niggaz, and you still
I be that schizo motherfucker
Walking with a shovel
Keep the bodies covered
Lurking with my brothers
Killers by the hundred
Bleed out my fucking eyes
I'M GONNA GRAB YOU BY THE COLLAR OF YOUR HUNDRED DOLLAR SHIRT
IF YOU THINK YOU'RE FEELING BAD, BABY, I CAN MAKE IT WORSE
I HOPE YOU HAVE A REAL GOOD
Whoa, whoa (ah)
Whoa, whoa (you could say that shit again but do you live by it? Yeah)
Whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa (ah, Based1 got them bands, ho)
Hundred fifty songs multiplied by a lot
That's how many reasons that I got that I'm top
Yelling where you been the whole year
Say some
Looking round me
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