This is a song about "Bars of clout"

But now it's gone, the doubt in the clout of my mouth which can spout like a twelve gauge

Two childhood friends just died, i couldn't crya damn shame, when will we ever change

But not the numbers i makeload up that wild boy

But booya booya boy 100 bars of death assassinate destroy

Spitting bars of lead, you turn them into gold

After every show, a dream she hold

I love what you're doin'. i'm just hopin' you continue

Of bars apart of doom that had sparked when i thought of you,

In search of my direction, my genre is certain

Fuck ur wack bars u weak version of a mean person

Executions deadly i'm slayin' lots of bars sittin pretty with finesse.

And that's a better reason to for me to take advantage with sex

Murdered this dude in 8 lines, almost half of his fucking bars.

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops