LYRIC
100 Bars Lyrics by BabyTron, from the album “6“, and 100 Bars song lyrics are penned down by BabyTron.
100 Bars Lyrics
Bitch, yeah, let me count for y’all
One of one, it ain’t no duplication of my DNA
Two hoes, one a scammer, other one a CNA
Three, two, one, shit, I’m finna give a PSA
Four bullets holes into your cape, I catch you bein’ brave
Five seconds left up on the clock, I’m hittin’ buzzer beaters
Six bars for twenty-K, I just knocked out another feature
Seven seas how I’m drippin’, I create sauce
Tell the opps, I’m last one in the hole just like a 8-ball
9-1-1, call them bastards, firе in the booth
Ten out of ten timеs, can tell a liar from the truth
It’s eleven-eleven, you better make a wish
At eleven, I turn thirteen like twelve ain’t exist
Catch me hoppin’ out your bushes, it’s Friday the 13th (We’ll turn your block to Crystal Lake)
Fourteen grams, use my wrist and turn it to a zip
Cutty just made fifteen in a day, he servin’ in the sticks
Sweet sixteen of the Wocky, I’ma break the bracket
The Glocky hold a seventeen today, I played it standard (I ain’t wanna stick out in public)
If the eighteen wheeler make it back, just know I’m rubber band man, just like David Banner
I was nineteen with a plan, but they ain’t understand
20/20 vision off the shrooms, I’m in Wonderland
Lil’ brodie steady clutchin’, he a savage, twenty-one
Twenty-two, I tote the deuce, deuce, this bitch a tummy tuck
Twenty-three, it gotta be my jersey number, bitch, I’m G.O.A.T
Twenty-four, I ball like Kobe, in the clutch, bitch, it’s the up
Twenty-fifth of December, that’s the type of gift that I am
Twenty-six different ways to do fraud, must forget that I scam
Scrumble touch down with twenty-seven like he Eddie George
Actin’ like he sellin’ twenty-eights, how much you bet he poor?
On the twenty-ninth, he gettin’ fired because dawg a temp
Hustle that’s instilled in me, could score a thirty off the bench
Thirty-one, he rollin’ Reggie, sippin’ Miller Lite
Opps say they got thirty, I tote thirty-two ’cause it’s on sight
Thirty-three, I pour a three then double back, I’m finna fly
Thirty-four people in front of you, you gotta sit in line
Thirty-five, rollin’ up Durantulas, these three fives
Why your wrist on thirty-six? You know you lookin’ weak, guy
It’s thirty-seven different reasons I can’t stop hustlin’
Up the .38 and hit his top, hell nah, we not tustlin’
Why you tryna beef with me, like ain’t you thirty-nine?
Shooter got .40 with a mop for all you dirty guys
Forty-one, I’m fadin’ off the drugs, I’m finna do the dirt
My Audemar a forty-two, like all I had to do was work
Forty-three days without drank, the monkey grabbin’ on my shirt
Forty-four outside, but bitch, I’m sweatin’, active off a Perc’
Forty-five plus fifty-five, that’s me, like add me up, you nerd
Paid Habibi forty-six, don’t even ask me why he purged
They think I play with trick dice, I rolled like forty sevens
First forty-eight, you a snitch
Forty-nine times out of fifty, I think you would switch
Fifty rackies if you never seen that lil’ boy, you a shrimp
[Part II]
Fifty-one lines in, forty-nine to go (Haha, had to switch the beat on ’em)
It’s fifty-two cards in the deck, I played the ones they gave me
Fifty-three, I’m fifth thirds, I played the bank so crazy
Fifty-four nights on the road
This the fifty-fifth day, still goin’ strong
Fourth and fifty-six, fuck it, gang, I’m goin’ long
Fifty-seven, five-seven F&N, I’m totin’ pole
Fifty-eight jacks stacked double like a totem pole
Fifty-nine, if he a Jack Ham, them Steelers on his dome (Look him up)
It’s sixty seconds in a minute, do you use your time wisely? (Do you?)
Unky said the first time that he traveled, ’61
Sixty-two hundred on my fit, you down to sixty slugs
Sixty-three, doubled up the lead, it’s like six to three (They ain’t finna score again, it’s over)
Boy, this life shit not a game, this not Nintendo 64
Knock sixty-five times before they let us in the door
If it wasn’t for the rap, I’d be on Route 66
Or probably have like sixty-seven credit cards in the whip
Ocky put a sixty-eight into his dash, he in the ditch (Boom)
If they get him in that room, he gon’ sixty-nine
Cruise control, I got it set at seventy, ain’t finna drive
Doggy whip a 1971, he movin’ ill-advised
Seventy-two, I think ’bout seven two and I look in the sky
Today’s forecast’s seventy-three, it’s lookin’ beautiful
I don’t gang bang, but know some seven-fours and I can merch yo’ neck
I-75 to Eight Mile, just the usual
You would’ve thought the spot was seventy-six ’cause all we serve is gas
Cuban hit for seventy-seven, Luka Trončić on the Mavs (Mark Cuban, you get it?)
Remember ridin’ in that shooter, only goin’ seventy-eight with both feet on the gas
I don’t get it, could be seventy-nine, still won’t be on my ass
Eighty on me, four pockets full, a dub in each one
Bro drop a eighty-one like Mamba, please don’t be dumb
Eighty-two games in the season, I won’t miss nada
Chain know like eighty-three dance moves, this bitch Sada
Drink his, we done poured eighty fours, Impala (Skrrt, skrrt)
Eighty-five, bet I catch the bag like Ocho Cinco (I might as well change my first name to “Chad”)
We’ll nuke yo’ block like Chernobyl in ’86
You rollin’ up some eighty-seven, I can’t take a hit
Drop a eight, then drop a eight, it’s purple when I take a piss
Dudie only got eighty-nine likes, why he take that pic? (Corny)
I’m on a ninety day grind, shit, God can be the judge
Walked in, only threw like ninety ones? You need to leave the club
’92 Jordan, catch me scorin’ in the clutch
Ninety-three in my truck, plus, it’s in my blunt
94, hot as hell, I’m dodgin’ state troopers
If they pull up with a hundred, ninety-five some fake shooters
’96 Bulls how we ball, bitch
Ninety-seven percent that we tackle ’em, I call, “Blitz”
Pieces ninety-eight cents each, but these bitches bussin’
Ninety-nine my overall, that ain’t shit but to go get a bucket
Only right we end it here, gon’ always keep this shit a hundred
ShittyBoyz, DogShit Militia
SONG INFO:
Song: 100 Bars
Artist: BabyTron
Album: 6 (2023)
Lyrics: BabyTron
