100 (F.t. Fiend) lyrics

[Intro]
If that's what you want man let's go get it, man let's bring it to this n*gga man. That's what you want? f*ck it man, let's go make it real for this n*gga, come on man. I'm out there dodgin' bullets and all this sh*t man, you jokin'? Some crap friends man...

And I always keep it 100, and I always keep it 100
Life
And I always kept it 100, and I always kept it one...

[Verse 1: Young Roddy]
Maybe she'll stop buggin' on a n*gga if she knows what a n*gga done been through
Every track drop bombs on a n*gga fool I'm just getting started, I ain't lived through
Another day another dolla my n*gga, hoes down only money on my mental
I'm just tryna live good my n*gga, tired of seeing cop lights in my rearview
Hard lives on my my n*gga, probably why a n*gga tinted his windows
I'm a laid back n*gga who'll rep Kenner City one time for the N.O
Trying to see how it feel to be rich, real talk cause I already been poor, so
Time to count that cake, time to count that cake, let's count them C-notes
And that street sh*t was gonna klill me, I'm trying to make some changes
Been broke way too long, still trying to make some change
f*ck being a broke n*gga, I'm like mother f*ck being famous
I ain't trippin' off of no Jacksons, I'm trying to stack them Franklins
I loaded up my ink pen, then threw away my apron
I mapped out my blue print, been orchestrating my game plan
They can't match my hustle cause most them n*ggas so basic
I stand tall for something, if it don't make cash it don't make sense

[Hook: Young Roddy]
But I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 1
They said that street sh*t was gonna kill me
So I'm trying to make some changes
Been broke way too long, still trying to make some change
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 100
And I always kept it 1
[Verse 2: Fiend]
And I always keep it one dolla'
And [?], Louisiana tax
Drug deals in the Ramadas, I was up in highschool seeing stacks
Talked about it while being that, wrote about it when rolling up
When Nino Brown was seeing crack, and G-money was smoking up (womp womp)
Pound for pound, I wasn't a boxer
Give her her high notes, wasn't the opera
[?] medical marijuana, we was in them stolen [?]
Eating Pop-Eye's in Church's, speak no lies in my verses
Clear glass in my benz though, 2 miles an hour on purpose
And I never told her I love her just so I could f*ck her
Didn't change the fact that a hustler still had to duck her
This track needs some 4 4's, [?] with four doors
A gucci bucket, kush nugget, and a baddie bringin' mo' hoes
If I pulled the pistol I used it
It's CNN if I lose it
My weed habit was so close to coke the way that I abused it
Shout out to [?] my shooter, [?] my jeweller
One thing for sure about Mister Jones and Young Route the Ruler

[Hook]