Lyrics
[Verse 1: Destroy Lonely, Ken Carson & Apollo Red]
Pourin' up, sleepin' all day, what's wrong?
I get fly, everywhere I go, I'm a drone
Pullin' up, shutting down the stage, sing my song
Thick bitch, walkin' 'round in a thong
YVL tatted on her thighs, woah
Lambo' or Hellcat, whachu' want?
Southside, 'ridin round, blowin' smo'-woah
Black tee or white tee
Black diamonds, white diamonds (Yeah)
Rose gold or ice cream? (Yeah)
Rich nigga lifestyle (Yeah), tell that hoe to pipe down (Yeah)
Tell ya' how it's going down (Yeah)
Stick got a hunnid' rounds (Brrrr)
Stick got a hunnid' rounds (Yeah), stick got a hunnid' rounds (Yeah)
Young nigga gun you down (Yeah)
Pullin' up, SRT (Yeah)
Takin' off, Trackhawk Jeep (Yeah)
All my chain sittin' on me (Yeah)
Whole gang depend on me (Yeah)
Hunnid' rounds, gun you down
Hunnid' rounds, hunnid' rounds, hunnid' rounds
Hunnid' rounds, gun you down
About this track
"100" is a song by Ken Carson, released in 2026.
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Ken Carson →Hunnid' rounds, hunnid' rounds, hunnid' rounds
[Verse 2: Ken Carson]
Hunnid' rounds, hunnid' rounds
Hunnid' rounds, hunnid' rounds
Hunnid' rounds
Huh, huh, and this stick gon' shake, huh, bring the housе down
Huh, huh, earthquake, I walk with a hundred rounds
I got a hunnid' K on, niggas talkin' down
I got a hunnid' hoеs on my phone
Where was you? You wasn't there when I was rockin' that VLONE
I got hoes, wanna be like me, they puttin' that shit on
Cup of four-woah-woah-woah, huh, I'm in my zone
Took this bitch to Chick-fil-A, yeah, she wanted Carbone
I got tattoos in my face, yeah, I'll never get a job
If I wasn't rapping, I'd be scamming, huh, huh, I'll rob
Told that hoe, "Pick a side", huh, stop all that sobbing
Bitch it's double-O five, huh, we homicide your mob
Got too many cars, I'mma need a bigger garage
Got too much money, these niggas so cap, on no facade
Lied through yo' teeth, how the fuck you put that on God?
I'm not from the east, I was in the [?] totin' that rod
[Verse 3: Apollo Red]
Huh, huh-huh-huh-huh
I'm not from the east, I was on the west, servin' fent'
Why these niggas doin' the same shit, your whole gang go out sad
I ain't talking 'bout that same bitch, that's some' I already had
I ain't talking 'bout that old money, I [?]
I been grindin' up the bag
Yeah, I got on rapper shit, but I'm still quick to grab that mag'
I told all my hoes I love 'em, but I know that'll never last
I don't do no regular clips, all my guns extended mag
Y'all gotta shut up, your dog talking, Brian Griffin, nigga (Huh)
I'on really talk about these hoes 'cause I'm not trippin' with 'em
If you ever see me on the news, I bet I won't be a victim
All that shit we eliminated on the block, we did way worse than Hitler
I had to take some drugs, just to destroy my lonely (Huh)
I told Kendrick, "Work the wheel, I'll light up the whole street" (Huh)
Went talked to Marcello, now my car got Chrome seats (Huh)
Once it's up, it's stuck up there, I'on care 'bout old bitches (Huh)
Once it's up, it's stuck up there, I'on care 'bout old beef (Huh)
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
