Fat Trel - 0-100 lyrics

Verse : Fat Trel I heard some n***as in my city talk crazy (talk crazy!) But is they really in my city, n***a maybe? Can't say they name, we don't make the same wage Even if it's World Star, we ain't on the same page Shaking my f**in' head, I'm shooting the same K Crackers, give me a grade, lock me up in the cage So I can eliminate, my vicious criminal ways Pop a Molly or two and I spark a swisher with haze Sittin' sideways, and you n***as is gay This industry sh** a game, I don't think I wanna play I know this b**h in love, I don't think she wanna say She "says" she wants some dick, I don't think she wanna pay Finna fly to LA (..LA) Baby on the way, and I'ma love 'em every day No matter what "his mother" say Get your sh** together, what my older brother say And I'm dicking b**hes, on jets they think it's snakes on a plane Some sh**'ll never change, stone-cold game Police is taking pictures and they know my whole name 37 on the chain, maybach murder gang Since I spent my whole advance, I ain't been the same Swerve in my lane, all-black Range You p**y n***as faker than them all-black chains Bright pinky-ring, Roley on my wrist co*k-blocking like a goalie cause he know she on my dick (...b**h) Black (tail wrists) on my homeys, on the list *can't forget!!* My b**hes only know me for good dick Say my brother name and I pull up on your strip No fight with the fists, bullets swinging from the hip Too legit to quit, too much money on my mental In my city, we'll put them bodies in them rentals (..in them rentals) And then we burn that rental up And take a shot, and smoke a blunt, now what the f** is really up?! And we don't give a motha-f** about them other n***as (.. other n***as) And when you f**ing with / who f**ing with / them other n***as(..other n***as) In duffle bags, and all the p**y is coming with us At 30 popping a hundred shots, in the drama with us Now come and get this boy, you probly see your momma with us With all the drinking and smoking, you know the drama with us I put the ice on the p**y, I tell it "cool down" That was Miami though, she coolin' with a dude now I'm back in Cali, in the Valley, I'm a fool now They hear my Crip, short-stop, bring 'em tools down I'm in the East, J Pink's bright two freaks Threw heaters in the back, black two-seaters I like to let my tatts show, black wife beaters I like to keep a lot of thots, black pipe eaters Night creepin', never was the type to like divas I see a hundred dollar bottle, with my 2 liter I got rich and I didn't get it from school either I didn't get it from the court, I got it from the bleach I got it from the bleachers Still middle finger, f** the teacher-- let's get it