Song meaning of 100 Shots by Young Dolph

Ah, "100 Shots" by Young Dolph, what a poetic masterpiece we have here. It's a compelling story of a man who's just living his best life, trying to enjoy some Backwoods, ice, and rubber bands, all while cruising around in a six-figure car that apparently has no business in the area. But don't you worry, Dolph has got it covered. If there's one thing he knows, it's that life is a never-ending circus of problems. He's trapped with his brother, paying bills, buying designer stuff for the ladies, but don't mistake that for love, folks. It's all business, especially when it comes to smuggling. Yeah, you heard it right – he's the king of pick-up and burn rubber. Oh, and did I mention he's got a sweet tooth for anything except suckers? Clearly, Dolph has expensive tastes, as he dines at Nobu in Malibu for his last supper. But hey, don't forget, he's also a multitasker, who engages in some rush-hour traffic love-making with Chris Tucker. Just your average day in the life of Dolph, where everyone screams "Gang, gang, gang," but let's not forget, those same people might just snitch on the whole gang. Dolph's blinged-out chain is apparently an aphrodisiac, but fear not, if he's not in the bank, he's definitely on a plane hustling to get that money or spend it. However, be warned, the airport security might stop him with too many Benjis (Franklins) in his possession. It seems the world doesn't want Dolph to live or ball, but don't worry, he sees right through those fake smiles and prayers for his downfall. Dolph advises all the young folks to stay focused, but secretly, he's itching for a little crash. It's a tale of a man reflecting on his past while reveling in the fact that he came from nothing but won't change for anything. His wrist confirms that he's getting paid, while his stuck-in-his-ways personality is certified by his beloved lady. A hundred shots, a hundred drops, a hundred blocks – that's the life Dolph and his crew represent. Street niggas in tuxedos, they are the mob. Dolph's charm is so powerful that it could make someone see stars just by looking at his watch for too long. And let's not forget about his interplanetary talent, performing a show on Mars while being high as a kite. But Dolph is a gentleman too, he appreciates the finer things and shows it with his extra-large pinky ring and a garage full of foreign cars. He fondly recalls his first ménage à trois, with Tori and Brittany, of course. And just in case you're in doubt, he clarifies that he shops for diamonds at Tiffany's, not to be mistaken for a man with sympathy. No, no, no. Dolph's sexual feats are worthy of a referee's whistle blow, and he'll make sure you remember him, especially after he reveals getting about ten stacks a week. With fingers on the trigger even while sleeping, Dolph proclaims that he'd rather you than him, and to top it all off, he enjoys smoking good weed in the backseat. In the chorus, he reiterates the fact that there were a hundred shots, but really, how the fuck did you miss all a hundred shots? It's an enigma wrapped in a mystery, my friends. Dolph asserts his authority in the trap, making it clear that if you don't shop, then you better knock before entering. And everybody, including those wishful fuck niggas who want Dolph gone, have been waiting for this level of gangster shit to drop. Now, we can't overlook the burning question: how many dicks did you suck to earn that couple of million? Ah, the life of a self-made millionaire. He even gets sexual healing from your girl, just in case you were wondering. Finally, Dolph steps into the building with six bitches, as his uncle proudly declares that's pimpin'. With diamonds hitting and your girl by his side, Dolph sends a clear message to all those who didn't listen – stay out of his way, you stupid-ass niggas. And yes, don't forget the big rocks in his watch and the Glock extensions. So, my dear listeners, this is the tale of Dolph, the philosopher rapper who took a hundred shots, missed them all, and still managed to drop some major truth bombs along the way. Bravo, Dolph. Bravo.