[Intro: Kyle Richh & Diana Ross]
Am I really hard to please?
Perhaps I have such special needs
I wondered what was wrong with me
My friends all fall so easily
(AyoSam)
Grrah
[Verse 1: Kyle Richh]
Wh-Why he runnin'? I ain’t even click, like
I put the beam on his hip
That bitch a thot, she gon' fuck off a spliff, like
She gon' switch on her friend for some dick, what?
Up it and blow, if I spot me a flex that’s on bro I'ma throw
Benny got hit, he got beat with the pole
I'ma spin on my dolo, no time for the shows, like, what?
She neaky, she nasty
Legs in the spot and they yellin' out, "Cathy"
Can't run, been spunt the addy
I don't do internеt shows, don't at me
He got stained, hе was tryna be flashy
Sheik got the V, too tact, can't catch me
And these niggas don't got enough bread, like
Caught a shot to the chest, need a med, like
Lil' nigga, I'm smokin' ya dead
He tried to run, caught a shot to the head, like
Heard enough, give a fuck what he said
He movin' wock, he get put on a bed, like
She don't like when I call her a leg
Thumb in her butt, pinnin' shit to the backboard
She a liar, that bitch is a backdoor
That bitch a thot, like, grrah, grrah, grrah
And these niggas on live in they room, like, they not outside for real
Backdoor when it's time for the drill
We gon' empty the block, give a fuck how you feel
H-Hunnid dash, I'm a geek on the wheel
Gun jam up, he get beat with the steel
See a opp, I'ma flame, fuck a deal
[Verse 2: Jerry West & Tata]
When I click, brodie told me to chill
I will not stop 'til I reach me a mill'
Reload my gun when it's time for the drill (Grrah-grrah)
Then I aim your top for the kill (Grrah-grrah)
Shots to the head, call that boy Little Bill
Brady the clip 'cause I shoot from the field
Reload my gun when it's time for the drill (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
Dotty a dummy, he died from a pill
EBK, I don't care how you feel
Keep a beam on the scope, never duck
Ace Dotty dead 'cause he ran out of luck (Grrah-grrah)
F-F-Fuck a Flexo, I'm turnin' shit up
Middleton blick on my hip, never run
I just dump 'til he dead on the floor
Reload my bullets with Christian Dior (Christian Dior)
When I shoot I don't use double hands
Free all my niggas that's stuck in the can (Free all my niggas)
Don't run, I got smoke in the air
Pass me the L, when I smoke it don't clear (Shh)
I'm a demon, not livin' in fear
That nigga got shot and got left in that chair (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
Shoot at four quarters, I'm makin' it square (What?)
Fuckin' his bitch and I don't really care (Grrah-grrah, what?)
Twenty-four shots when I'm lettin' it flare
[Verse 3: Tata]
Twenty-four shots when I up, I don't care, bitch (Everything dead)
Everything deady, I'm ready (Grrah-grrah, what?)
Ootin' at niggas, I ain't showin' sympathy (Grrah)
Big 41, gang and 'em ready (Grrah-grrah, boom)
Might call up the members to slide with artillery (Slide with artillery)
She wanna be with me, she cannot get with me (Bitch)
Niggas talkin', but he is a kid to me (Grrah-grrah, boom)
Hit 'em up, watch his body move jittery
Everything dead, niggas cannot get rid of me (Grrah-grrah, boom)
Brodie move sturdy, I pass 'em a perky (What?)
She a freak, goin' dumb off the yerky, huh
Yeah, they be talkin' 'bout how they be ballin' on court, don't get shot out your jersey (Grrah-grrah, boom)
Stay with Jackie 'cause she an essential (She an essential)
Big chop, clip longer than pencil
Grrah, grrah (Grrah), like Dee said, I don't need to go deep, I go doley and bend through
Wanna meet Jesus? Bullets gon' send you (Grrah-grrah)
Everything dead, don't make me end you (Grrah-grrah, boom)
I got the knock, I'm throwin' ten (What? Grrah-grrah)
I call up Dee and I bet he throw ten too (Grrah-grrah, boom)
Me and Jenn two-deep and we might spin through (Skrrt)
Movin' funny, we flock at your crew (Grrah-grrah)
And I'm really outside, I'm not hidin' from you (Grrah-grrah)
If you fuck with that nigga then die with him too (Bitch)
[Verse 4: Jenn Carter]
Me and Tata two deep in the V (Gang-gang-gang)
When we spinnin' ya block, we gon' flock out the window (Grrah, grrah, grrah)
I dropped power, I felt like Matilda (Grrah-grrah, boom)
No time for the games, ain't no time for nintendo (Gang, gang, gang)
And these hallows gon' make you so sleepy (Carter)
I got a silencer, I gotta tip-toe (Grrt-grrt, baow)
And these nigga be duckin' they hidin' (Gang-gang-gang)
They dodgin' these bullets like they playin' limbo (Grrah-grrah, boom)
She a thot, I make the seat hot (Gang-gang-gang)
Bullets is scorchin', might knock off his tree-top (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
Beat up the pussy, they say I could beat box (Grrah-grrah)
Niggas duckin' the smoke, detox (Grrah-grrah, boom)
Every time I'm on court they be hidin' (Gang-gang-gang)
Shot in your foot, now you Megan Thee Stallion (Grrah-grrah)
Cdot stay in the field, he be wilin'
Shot in the leg, now he losin' his balance (Now you Megan The—, gang)
Jerry said, "Keep a beam on the blick" (What?)
Feel like I'm Harden, I shoot, I don't miss (What? Gang)
That boy runnin', get turned to a spliff (Grrah, grrah, grrah)
Loadin' the clip and I aim for his lip (Grrah-grrah)
Lil' thotty, she all on my dick (Grrah-grrah)
Don't know her name, but her pussy legit (Grrah-grrah, boom)
And, no, I cannot tweak for a bitch (Grrt)
41 the movement, you cannot commit (Gang-gang-gang)
[Verse 5: Dee Billz & Jay Gelato]
And that 4.5 send six, like (Like, what?)
Head-crack if I click it (Boom-boom-boom)
Why he runnin'? The beam on the knocker
Jay tote Will, I brought Smith &' (Like)
Dead spliff, shit buss like pasta (Gang)
Rude boy, ma raised a shotta (Gang-gang-gang)
She eat it up like pasta, but she ain't gettin' nada (Gang-gang-gang)
And the knock on my hip so I walk with a lean (Walk with a lean)
Wanna cuff, I'm like, "What do you mean?" (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
O in his back, he got hit with the beam (Like)
She gon' shake it and throw it on me, like (Treesha)
Two-step when I walk in the spot (Two-step)
Ooter on go, he not talkin' a lot (On bro)
Get low, we gon' bend on the cops (Grrah-grrah, grrah-grrah)
Told bro, "Chill," he be bendin' a lot (Gang-gang-gang)
Get cold, Jay pass me the heater (Like, grrah)
Not performin', you sit on the bleachers (Gang-gang-gang)
Spin through, sent him to the Reaper (Gang-gang-gang)
Drop that window, grrah, grrah, grrah (Gang-gang-gang)
Get cold, Jay pass me the heater (Like)
Not performin', you sit on the bleachers (Gang-gang-gang)
Spin through, sent him to the Reaper (Gang-gang-gang)
Drop that window, grrah, grrah, grrah (Gang-gang-gang, gang-gang-gang)
Like
[Verse 6: Jay Gelato]
How you runnin'? The knock got a beam
Chop Promethazine, make 'em lean (Dougie)
They scream, "Action," when we on the scene
Chopper rip his pants (Grrah), fold him by the seam (Grrah-grrah)
Like, Lato the Bravo, the hottest
Niggas know that 41 be the topic (Like)
Boy, want no problems with me, watch him drop it (Damn)
Bullets'll probably plug a nigga socket, damn (Like, what?)
If I'm lurkin' then I'm tryna score (Like, what?)
Gang is with me, they ready for war
Boy don't move hot and get sent to the lord (Like)
Keep I-T with me, I'm sendin' out four (Grrah)
Like, I'm for the violence and gore (Like, what?)
We keep clickin' 'til that nigga gone
Are you ready, nigga, are you sure? (Are you what?)
Hit that body-ody to the floor, like (Goddamn)
If I got to, nigga, I'ma end it (Like, what?)
Send the addy, I'ma clear the distance (Goddamn)
Niggas talkin' knowin' that I'm with it (What's up with it?)
Keep on startin' with me, I'ma finish (Grrah-grrah)
Tryna see 'em go (Like)
Call up bro, I know he do the most (Goddamn)
Probably burn 'em, turn 'em into toast, like (Goddamn)
It was never close, like (Like, damn)
[Verse 7: FMB Savo & Tata]
I've been itchin' to pull out the sitch
AK a demon, I know he gon' blitz
Swear everything dead, watch him lift
Spin it again if the first hollows miss
And these niggas don't know what I do
Politicians, only there for the news
But a nigga got nothin' to lose
Put up ya mans, I got somethin' to prove
Look, if Jerry spot 'em, he gon run (What?)
Jenn keep clickin', roll him for the lung (Grrah-grrah)
KR always dumpin' 'til it's done
Dee on point, shooter number one (Grrah-grrah, boom, nigga)
[Outro: Tata]
41 gang, the fuckin' gang
Y'all niggas know the vibes
Everything dead
41 Cypher was written by Tata & Jerry West & Jenn Carter & Dee Billz & Jay Gelato & FMB Savo & Kyle Richh & AyoSam & 41.
41 Cypher was produced by AyoSam.
Kyle Richh released 41 Cypher on Fri Jan 14 2022.