Lyrics:
hundred or more
The Lord had the right just livin poor
Resurrectin the true and livin back the power
Devils getiin devoured, niggas heard the god holla
best prepare for the storm
Ya'll funny niggas quick to ring the alarm
Bomb fell, now a nation is gel
We had to dwell for four hundred or more
I don't even gotta say no name
Ayy, shout out little hundred 'round, nigga took an L
He tried to spin this shit you know
I'on't fuck with them,
the middle of thought
I'm interrupted by Shallah Raekwon
[Raekwon]
I need my money, Meth, going on about them hundred birds
Tell Tone to get at me, on 'em
See i always wanted more
Wit no money i was bored
Said it hurt me to da core
I couldnt get it out da store
Dis aint wat i prayed 4
God open up da
pray to god tonight's the night he's taking me
I lose a piece of me every morning that i see the sun
Contrast for my thoughts, plagued by demons, I'm
to kill
That shit crazy, that shit deep and that shit steep but that shit real, uh
Let these niggas know 3-1-3 to the 4-1-4
Five spots on the block,
of IUP without a four year degree
Got robbed by the cops for a couple of g’s
I got a job just to try to pay the lawyer fees and
Low key sell trees, try
in like E4
(Shut the fuck up)
As a kid started learning how to Bruce Lee slick
How to dress well, and probably approach a chick
Even with my
1, 2, 3, 4 blast off!
You ready?
You can't say you incredible if you fucking up likes this
Un-incredible... Stupid!
Yeah
Ro-Roll up my sleeve,
Guard your heart with all diligence
For from it flow the springs of life
Proverbs four twenty-three
My heart is a garden, my mind's a harvest field
Shoot for the racks don’t shoot for the fame
These niggas be lame
Spin on your block then we do it again
On god this shit ain’t no game
Big 33 yeah
Cause I had the time 2
God did why didn’t you?
The beats get ran through like a track too
This is track 2
Attract to bitches with big bags & bags
midnight tears
Maybe You see beauty upside down
All the Earth is waiting for a sound
Four hundred years of silence longing for a crown
Silence thrown into
style
Dopeboy bitch I'm dickied down thirty forties a hundred rounds
Pull up and we lay you down on God that how we playin now on God
Bitch
I swear you
please, body please
Yo
Yo it go one, two, three and to the four then
A rebel in his prime, that's what y'all beholdin'
See I be holdin' inside of my soul
fuck (bitch)
Jumpout gang (fuck, bitch)
Real scam god, bitch I ain’t got no heroes
Big 10 milli turn his hundred to a zero
He tryna fight but nigga that
a gold digger but I aint cuffing no broke hoe
It's just Me and my baguettes get the racks by the boat load
But that's just light shit you know every nigh
Tell me how the fuck you miss a whole hundred fuckin' shots? (Haha)
I'm totin' a sixty on this AR, I shoot thirty, twenty droppin' (twenty down)
Bitch,
Hell Rell:
I heard this nigga was lookin' for a body bag
100 bricks, that's a come-up, rob papi's stash
I'm Jason Vorheas without the hockey mask
Rap
head, man fuck that heart condition
Rihanna like my big momma, we call Penny Big Momma
She like a hundred years old, that's a real old-timer
Uncle Karl
Hell Rell:
I heard this nigga was lookin' for a body bag
100 bricks, that's a come-up, rob papi's stash
I'm Jason Vorheas without the hockey mask
Rap
Sunset til dawn
I got a word abundance, hold pens by the hundreds
Top speed, guaranteed, we still running
I be boombastic
With my terror tactics
Why
Laughing to the bank, my shit tickling now
All US dollars, still I stick with the pounds
Money over god, got me kissing the ground
She say she turned on by
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