[Intro: Kyle Richh & Jenn Carter]
Glah
Glah, glah, glah
(Josh)
(Elvis)
Glah, like what, like what?
Bitch, glah, glah, glah
Like what? Like what? Bitch, glah, glah, glah
Yo YP
Glah
Let 'em know it's Carter, dickhead
What

[Verse 1: Kyle Richh]
Said it's K with the K, no Flocka
Spot 'em, we got 'em, one shot and we'll flock 'em (Glah, glah, glah)
Too deep, I'ma empty the what? (Like what?)
He tried to run, caught the shots to the butt (Glah)
Red beam when I turn him to Runtz
If he jackin' this K, put a hole in his gut
Better duck when I reload the chopper
Hang out the V, like dump that knocker (Glah glah glah)
Better run if you runnin' at me (Like what? Like what?)
And double trunk he get trunked with the roster (Bitch, glah-glah, glah)
Spin through, click 'til it's empty (click til it’s what?)
Bitch, I'm on court, n***as know not to bench me (Like what?)
N***as see me they switch up they energy (Like, damn)
Like what, she a thot out the Hennessy
I do the most, every trip they remember me
Run down, put the beam on his shh
No remorse when I bend through their strip
Thotties get shot, don't get flocked with your bitch (Treesha)
Oh, she a thot? She on top of my dick (Like what?)
He tried to creep, caught the shots at his rib, what? (Glah, glah-glah)
Said-Said I know a n***a that act like he tough, but he fled (He what?)
And these n***as not smokin' my dead (Like what?)
Ma-man got dropped, he was yellin' ''My head''
[Verse 2: Jenn Carter]
Call me crazy, I'm throwin' the rock (Gang, gang, gang)
Fuck everybody, it's everyone shot (what?)
Sturdy aim 'cause I shoot like a cop (glah, glah)
Bitch on my body, she totin' the knocks (gang, gang, gang)
Call me FedEx, I beat up the box (What?)
Move like a baddie, she tickin' on top (top, like)
She a dancer, she tickin' the top
Like, I be geekin' and I cannot stop (Gang, gang, gang)
Like on the block, I send 41 shots
We be geekin' we do it for fun (do it for fun, Dead)
And if she is a demon, I pass her gun (gun, like)
Like he a shooter only in my blunt
And if I am with Carter we bend through (gang)
If he 41K, he get sent to the sun
'Cause of what? Fuck up his mental
Talkin' my shit and know I am not dumb (glrt-glrt, baow)
Said you n***as is scary, that boy on my dick (gang, gang)
Be wearin' fake Amiri's (glah-glah, boom)
I'm totin' the grip and singin' like it's Carey (Mariah)
Like, big EBK got me feelin' like Jerry
All the thotties be deady on deady, they all on my body
Won't party with Jenny (It’s Carter, dickhead)
And the party, I'm ready to tweak
And I'm ready to geek, so this shit can get heavy, gang (glah-glah, boom)
[Verse 3: Mo Kartii]
N***as like ''Where's Mo Kartii'' (Like)
Well Kartii is here
Bitch I don't stop, but I ain't goin' nowhere
These n***as be dumb, they ain't puttin' in fear
Totin' on knocks, swear I don't care (I don't care)
Twenty-four shots to the air
Tell 'em to give 'em the drop
But, if they keep missin', we lettin' it flare (Glah, glah, glah)
But now he just tested his luck, like
Now it's just up and it's stuck, what? (Stupid)
Everything boomed better duck
You big or you small man, I don't give a fuck, like
You ain't a shooter, you suck, fu-fuck it
Now we gon' bend both ways, fu-fuck it
Now we gon' shoot both ways
Gi-give him a reason to look both ways
I'm runnin' from who? (Who?)
N***a, suck my dick
Cocked me a beam when I shoot with that blick
[?] a heart and I'm pleadin' the fitfh
All ya' n***as be cappin
When I step on the field, we actin'
They ain't steppin' for real, they cappin'
And It’s Kartii, lil' bitch, who askin'?
[Verse 4: Jerry West]
I'm smokin' that boy in a blunt
Don't need nobody, but me and my gun
Smokin' Dotty, he turned into Runtz
When I spin out, we load through the front
Ba-back door, you can get in a blunt
Shoot like Giannis, let's keep it a buck
Droppin' two fingers, I don't give a fuck
GBG when I shoot, better duck
Sippin' on muddy, it's green in my cup
How you a demon but talk to the cops?
That's your bitch? She settin' the drop
You don't know me for real, I'm on hot
If you run then my knocker gon' dump
Yo-your're dead and that spliff in my punch
Talk on 41 and that boy in a blunt
KR gon' spot him, that n***a gon' run