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100 bars pt. 2 - dc2trill lyrics

100 bars pt. 2 lyrics
[intro]
(nick on the track)
y’all some corny*ass n*ggas
yeah

[verse]
pull up, b*tch, like kamikaze
four drugs up in my body
three pistols right beside me
two b*tches tryna top me
one line just to sample
tampered drank, get temper tantrums
she spotted me and said i’m handsome
take him, hold his ass for ransom
stay down and flex the moola
you a dork, she think i’m cooler
poor sport, he mad he losing
she found out me and maddy scr*w*ng
shot a n*gga in his chakra
since he tryna be positive
lamb’ truck, watch me run the miles up
get the glizzy, spot ’em, got ’em
he not street, he just an actor
picked your b*tch up on my tractor
slimed ’em, now i feel like thugger
spin ’em playing darius rucker
it’s dinner, suzie, get your brother
playing chicken, so we plugged him
not gon’ cut you, brought my cutter
drank baby, ask my mother
me and your b*tch secret lovers
kindergarten, i was humping
booked his ass, danny glover
amg, hear the thunder
spilled my drank, hit the woman
called her up, i was h*rny
clean sprite, now it’s barney
passed out, now it’s morning
popped a pill, now it’s on me
he moved on, get his homie
matsu’ from bologna
achoo, bless the homie
own an island like coney
he was getting cash, now he bony
keep the tommy just for tonys
tired of being never lonely
took ’em in, they sleep up on me
look out the window, she tanning by sun
they came by the two, but i’m not the one
i got my fin, so why would i run?
i’m going stupid, but i’m never dumb
i said that i’m finished, but i’m never done
crushing your b*tch, i feel like big pun
bust at a n*gga, then go on the run
they loving the drip, i feel like a sponge
came for the top and i feel like sp*wn
keep a cup like don juan
treat hi*tech like fine wine
baggy*ass clothes like i’m in the ’90s
balenciaga, it’s the finest
tune her up, this b*tch the finest
wockhardt cup, perfect timing
hop on the mic, perfect rhyming
spendin’ the cash and i’m stackin’ the lettuce
b*tch, you broke, you can’t even manage
opps in the way, but i can’t even panic
walk in the spot and i’m breakin’ it down
selling my ho, gotta buy you some pounds
she get loosie in the lounge
he f*cked up his cash and i’m like, “how?”
many people like my style
asian chopper, chop ’em down
papercuts from cash, i’m like, “ouch”
f*ck n*ggas, keep ’em out
ain’t ’bout sh*t, he just scream and shout
don’t get no bag, then this b*tch gon’ pout
on my own, don’t need no vouch
we keep pistols by the couch
[outro]
yeah, n*gga
b*tch
yeah, n*gga, hundred bars, n*gga, that wraith got a lot of stars, n*gga
no cap, n*gga
2t sh*t

- dc2trill lyrics

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