Mistah F.A.B. was born and raised in North Oakland and raised by his grandmother and his mother, who sometimes worked four jobs to support him while his father was incarcerated. When F.A.B. was 12, his father died of complications of AIDS. Around that time, F.A.B. started writing and rapping. In high school F.A.B. competed in freestyle rap.
100 Bars
Mistah F.A.B. Lyrics
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Of clueless blues,
Pays the views,
And no-mans news.
Blades will fade from blood to sport,
The heroin's cut these fuses short,
Smokers rode a colonial pig, [Smoke is rolling colonial pink,]
Drink and frame this pain i think.
You bleed your wings and then disappear.
The moving scenes and pilot lights, [...pyre lights]
Smithereens have got 'em scaling heights.
Modern times come talk me down,
And battle lines are drawn across this town.
Parisian boys without your names, [...with obscure names]
Ghetto stones instead of chains,
Talk 'em down cause it's up in flames, [Talk me down...]
And nothing's changed.
Parisian boys without your names, [...with obscure names]
Riot like 1968 again.
The days of rage yeah nothing's changed,
Well pretty flames.
In school I would just bite my tongue,
And now your words they strike me down. [But now your words have struck me dumb.]
The flags are false and they contradict,
They point and click which wounds to lick,
On avenues this christian breeze,
Turns it's heart to more needles please.
Our eyes roll back and we beg for more,
It frays this skin and then underscore.
The case for war you spin and bleed,
The sales you feel screensavers feed,
The girls you breed the soaps that you write,
The graceless charm of your gutter snipes.
The moving scenes and suburbanites,
And smithereens got 'em scaling heights.
Modern times come talk me down,
The battle lines are drawn across this town.
English boys without your names, [...with obscure names]
Ghetto stones instead of chains,
Hearts and minds and US Planes,
Nothing's changed...
And english boys without your names, [...with obscure names]
Riot like the 1980's again,
The days of rage yeah nothing's changed,
More pretty flames.
The song "100 Bars" by Mistah F.A.B. is a powerful and provocative commentary on the state of society in contemporary times. The lyrics are dark and poetic, offering a bleak view of a world where everything has become commodified and devalued, where beauty is sacrificed for profits, and where violence and corruption are rampant.
The first stanza of the song paints a picture of a city that is cold and impersonal, where people wear "clueless blues" and are disconnected from each other. The imagery of "blades that fade from blood to sport" and "heroin's cut these fuses short" suggests a world where violence and addiction have become normalized and accepted. The reference to smokers "riding a colonial pig" and "frame this pain" points to a society that is in the grip of a destructive addiction to consumerism and instant gratification.
The second stanza of the song is even more evocative, with its reference to "Parisian boys without your names" and "ghetto stones instead of chains". This stanza suggests a world where even rebellion and protest have been co-opted by the culture of consumerism, and where young people are struggling to find their voice in a world that has become increasingly oppressive. The reference to the "days of rage" suggests that even though society has changed, the issues that young people are facing remain the same.
Line by Line Meaning
In city shoes,
Wearing fashionable city shoes
Of clueless blues,
Ignorant of the problems of the world
Pays the views,
Paying attention to the superficial things of life
And no-mans news.
Ignoring important news events
Blades will fade from blood to sport,
Violence will become normalized
The heroin's cut these fuses short,
Drug addiction is leading to destruction
Smokers rode a colonial pig,
People are indulging in unhealthy habits
Drink and frame this pain i think.
Alcohol is being used to cope with emotional pain
I'm melting silver poles my dear,
I'm breaking down emotionally
You bleed your wings and then disappear.
You're self-destructing
The moving scenes and pilot lights,
The flickering of flames
Smithereens have got 'em scaling heights.
The destruction is gaining momentum
Modern times come talk me down,
Trying to make sense of the chaos
And battle lines are drawn across this town.
People are divided
Parisian boys without your names,
Unidentified rioters in Paris
Ghetto stones instead of chains,
Using rocks as weapons
Talk 'em down cause it's up in flames,
Trying to diffuse the situation
And nothing's changed.
Despite efforts, nothing has improved
Riot like 1968 again.
Rioting similar to that of the late 1960s
The days of rage yeah nothing's changed,
The protests and violence have not resulted in progress
Well pretty flames.
The fires are beautiful, but destructive
In school I would just bite my tongue,
Avoiding conflict in the past
And now your words they strike me down.
Now, words hurt
The flags are false and they contradict,
Flags represent ideals that are not being upheld
They point and click which wounds to lick,
The media chooses which issues to focus on
On avenues this christian breeze,
In religious communities
Turns it's heart to more needles please.
Is drawn to drug use
Our eyes roll back and we beg for more,
Addiction is all-consuming
It frays this skin and then underscore.
Addiction damages both physical and mental health
The case for war you spin and bleed,
Propaganda is being used to justify war
The sales you feel screensavers feed,
Consumer culture is manipulated by advertising
The girls you breed the soaps that you write,
The entertainment industry reinforces harmful stereotypes
The graceless charm of your gutter snipes.
Lowbrow humor is used to distract from important issues
The moving scenes and suburbanites,
The destruction is spreading to different areas
And smithereens got 'em scaling heights.
Violence is becoming more intense
Modern times come talk me down,
Attempting to make sense of a complex world
The battle lines are drawn across this town.
People are divided over important issues
English boys without your names,
Unidentified rioters in England
Ghetto stones instead of chains,
Using rocks as weapons
Hearts and minds and US Planes,
The impact of war on individuals
Nothing's changed...
Despite efforts, nothing has improved
And english boys without your names,
Unidentified rioters in England
Riot like the 1980's again,
Rioting similar to that of the 1980s
The days of rage yeah nothing's changed,
The protests and violence have not resulted in progress
More pretty flames.
The fires are beautiful, but destructive
Contributed by Levi C. Suggest a correction in the comments below.