This is a song about "One hundred"

Kill streak one hundred and eighty three in the caption spot

On the top, was my pops, my momma screamin stop

Stockyard bards, a hundred thirty two years charred

I'd rather have me no job than no heart

I keep every damn line one-hundred percent original,

Don't fuck around and make it truemy adversaries crumble

Plagiarized swag, may arrive last

600 benz, house six hundred grand

Kill streak one hundred and eighty three in the caption spot

Picture that and they ain't fire not a single shot

I got a hundred fuckin problems but i only need an answer to one,

While you fucking with mei'm a self-made millionaire!thug livin', out of prison

The chills, the kills, these hundred dolla bills

Just another day out in beverly hills