Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 100 Yard Dash, artist - Ab-Soul. Album song Long Term 1 & 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 05.04.2015
Record label: AAA
Song language: English
100 Yard Dash |
| Everybody get the fuck down now |
| Soul in the building |
| Yeah, we taking everything |
| Everything you got |
| Hit the deck I need everything you possess |
| I suggest you cooperate for this tech |
| Send you to the doctor to operate |
| You complicate my scheme to get rich |
| I’ll put this heat to your T, let it steam a little bit |
| Look, when the chips get low, my fifth just blow |
| Anything that I could pawn, come about that, dog |
| It’s money to be made and if you got it I’m taking it |
| Just run it like a Jamaican and shut the fuck up, nigga |
| And that might leave more than a rash |
| I’m coming for your ass |
| Please hand me the cash |
| Cause when I’m down on my last |
| I gotta re-up fast |
| Point me to your stash |
| Don’t make me say it again |
| Before I lay you with Reagan, Benjamin Franklin, and them |
| Frankly I’m a menace |
| In fact I’m ready to blast |
| So whatever you got, run it |
| Like a 100 yard dash |
| Coming for you |
| Don’t let me catch you slipping in that pretty whip you dip in |
| You would get pulled out |
| Like my dick in these women when I’m finna bust, don’t test my clout |
| Your execution is a must, no doubt |
| For the longest niggas been taking my kindness for weakness |
| But this trigger is killing me and I’m just dying to squeeze it |
| Fire for hire, don’t let your murder transpire |
| Thinking you will live forever like a fucking vampire |
| I arose from the dark to claim everything you own |
| And there’s nothing between us but opportunity and this chrome |
| It don’t take a genius to know I mean this, so ante up |
| Before I load the cannon up and blow your ass to Canada |
| Nigga |
| I’m wild with it, pistol whip whoever’s in the house with it |
| Call the cops, tell 'em like a date, I’m going out with it |
| Give me the goods, give me the hand me downs |
| Tell your wife to pull her panties down |
| I need those too, what you gon' do? |
| Don’t jeopardize your life, for the nigga hard body made of cement |
| Plus I’m loaded like this clip, off of the Seagrams |
| Lay you on the floor like granite |
| Granted your granny watching, I’m grinning like I ain’t just hit 'em |
| Better believe it, my head’s sort of off, shit |
| I would have robbed Jesus for the cross if I caught him slipping |
| God forgive him for this long arm like Pippen |
| The cars honk but times is hard hard and I gotta eat |
| Give me the watch, the Sean-John, even your sneaks |
| Give me your socks, your drawers, your fitted, your Boost minutes |
| Give me your stocks, your bonds, your blunts, your bongs |
| Your food in the fridge, your iPod, your celly |
| You say I’m wrong but I’m deadly |
| That’s dead wrong so I’m heavy |
| Like Chris Wallace, regardless |
| You’re getting stuck up, pussy |
| Like a tampon with a handgun, push me |
| But I ain’t on the swings, I got this infrared beam and it wouldn’t miss a thing |
| Bow! |
| Chyea! |
| Rose |
| I got you nigga |
| I want everything |
| I want the jewels, the watches, the bling bling, all that shit |
| All y’all little niggas getting your chains robbed |
| I’m on you |
| I’m just playing y’all, I wouldn’t hurt a fly |
| Came out dope though |
| Carson arsonist |
| Yeah, it’s funny that you say Carson-Carson arsonist |
| That’s where you’re from right? |
| Carson? |
| Yes, yes sir |
| Where is that exactly? |
| If I looked on a map, where would I be lookin'? |
| Carson is right in between Compton and Long Beach |
| Shout out to Carson, Del Amo, that’s where I’m from though, DA |