Kyle Richh & Jenn Carter – Head Pop (Instrumental) (Prod. By Naitere)

[Intro: Jenn Carter & Kyle Richh]
[Naytier?], you done zoed up
Grrah
Damn, Notti, like, Notti
It’s Carter, dickhead
Grrah, grrah

[Verse 1: Jenn Carter]
Keep a knocker, two sticks
That boy a dummy, got put in a ditch (Grrah-grrah, boom)
And my niggas stay melatin, they cannot switch
Like, put the beam on his hip (Grrah-grrah, what?)
Catch Flex, not friends
If I find me a bitch, she gon’ turn to a villain (Grrah-grrah, boom)
I’m a beast, out of the village
Dum—Dump that knocker, windows is tinted (It’s Carter, dickhead)
Ayo, Jah, Chase Down Gang, rip that V, throw like a hunnid (Like, what?)
Tata, bli—blitz both ways
We two deep and this .40 got drummin’
[Verse 2: Kyle Richh]
Don’t run when this gun get to bustin’
Knot on my body, I don’t need nobody (Like, what?)
Fuck—, fuck Charlie
Like, he was dissin’, got put in the molly (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
Damn, he got hit in his skull (Like, what?), hea—head pop, now his brains on fire (Damn-damn-damn)
He got sent to the sky, no dove (Like, what?)
Like, gotta click when the push come to shove (Bitch, damn-damn-damn)
Ayy yo, Jerry, what we doin’?
And we off the Wock’, no Flocka
Like, what we smokin’? Osama
Like, yo, Shiek, go dump that knocker
Told bro, “Pop out wit’ the sitchy” (Do a hit)
Like, shit get sticky if I can’t get the iffy
I’m on his block, tryna see how is block work (Like, what?)
Like (Bitch), it’s a PD when we find Blockwork (Damn-damn-damn)
And Notti ain’t make it to high school
Noah got beat like makeup (Alley)
O—Omens, gotta wake up
Like, lil’ bro caught a—, off the wake up (Like, what?)
Dotty dead, nigga died off a bean (Dotty)

[Verse 3: Jerry West & Kyle Richh]
4s in the spot then we clearin’ the scene
SB a demon, he flock out the V
If that bitch is a thot, I don’t give her the D
He got caught in the train, wasn’t fast on his feet
And if I got a deuce, then I pass it to Shiek
Notti Boppin’, and if I catch a O, then he droppin’
You not 41-K, nigga, stop it
Backdoor open, you better unlock it
‘Cause I’m slime
And that nigga got caught in a dream ’cause it wasn’t on time
I got a switch on my gun then I double it up, then I gotta combine
Jah Woo, that’s my heart
Comin’ outside, we got 4100
I can’t wait ’til I run into Blockwork, can’t even find ’em, that nigga be duckin’, grrah
Told bro, “Don’t stop dumpin'”
Like, nigga see me, heart start pumpin’
[Verse 4: Leeky Jackson]
Niggas dissin’, what for?
Niggas mad ’cause we up on the score (Charlie)
Ca—Catch my a Mitchy, send ’em to the lord
L—L—Leeky gon’ leave ’em leakin’ on the floor (Grrt, baow, baow-baow-baow)
Since a youngin’, always kept a charge
I had my—I had my mother always in the courts ([?])
All them cases, a young nigga caught, for them robberies, hammers, and all them assaults (Baow-baow-baow)
13, tried to hit up the doors
Hi—Hit ’em, and watch ’em losin’ their results (Grrah)
All that shit that a young nigga saw
Niggas was [?], I was right on my porch (What?)
It’s a’ight ’cause we up on the score
Ja—Ja—Jackpot, hit a nigga, now he gone (Jackpot)
We are not worried ’bout oppositions, when the Glock is spittin’ everybody fall (Baow-baow-baow), like
Late night, posted up on the jack (On the jack)
They know that I was totin’ on a MAC (MAC, like)
False move, nigga you gon’ get clapped
When I up, one down, niggas know it’s a wrap (Baow-rrah-rrah)
Jackpot, they don’t really understand us
Catch opp, hit them niggas wit’ the hammer (Gang-gang-gang)
Fat chop, hit that nigga now he dancin’
I start releasin’ (Like), let them niggas panic (Baow-baow-baow), like
And it’s every O shot, bitches get dropped, smokin’ on his pops and shit (Die Y, die Y)
Niggas talkin’ ’bout them chops, never bend the block, all they do is politic (Baow-baow-baow)
All my niggas totin’ props and shit
Run up on me (Leg-shot), you get popped and shit
We do not care about oppositions (Like), we got choppa-sitions for the opps and shit (Grrah, baow-baow)
Like, one opp got hit in the neck
‘Nother opp nigga not feelin’ his legs (Like)
Another got hit in his stomach and shit and them other two niggas is dead (Oh my God)
Like, me and my niggas we buggin’ and shit
Ain’t nothin’ to let off two legs
I call up Tmac, brodie gon’ relap, that nigga buggin’, that nigga [?]
How could I lack and I keep me a .9?
How I’m gon’ die if it’s not my time?
You can killed for dissin’ one of mine
We gon’ get to clickin’, that nigga rewind (That nigga rewind), like
[Outro]
[Naytier?], you done zoed up