4100 ONE MIC CYPHER

[Intro: Kyle Richh]
Who the fuck is Merkz?
I went for the kill (Bitch)
And we been on a million drills (Like, what?)
4100, we gunnin' for real

[Chorus: Kyle Richh]
Oh, they got me on hots (Ahhhhh)
I'm tryna shoot up the spot (Ahhhhh)
I'm tryna send him to Dot (Ahhhhh)
He can't run, he got hit with the Glock
Fuck a AM, I went for the—
Fuck a AM, I went for the kill (Went for the kill)
And we been on a million drills (Like, what?)
4100, we gunnin' for real

[Verse 1: Kyle Richh & Jenn Carter]
Push up on me, I don't recommend
Like, I'm tryna catch me a M (Damn)
Blocky, how is you OY again? (Like, what?)
Fuck it, he gon' get sent to his friends
Like, he went live, he ain't think we would bend
Bitch, I'm on that block, whеre you at? (Bitch)
Kartii was runnin' like track
Like, bro put thе beam on his back (Kartii)
Eight shots, one in the head
And, I'm tired of smokin' his dead
I'm tryna smoke his mans who alive
Like, he thought he was safe on the live
Oh my God, OY off the map
Totin' guns but they dyin' by knife
Bdot a bitch, he got beat wit' the gat
I see DD, I'm leavin' him flat (OYK) Grrah (Grrah-grrah)
Grrah
Grrah

[Verse 2: Jenn Carter]
Who the fuck is a Cocofelon? (Coco–, what?)
Like, I heard DOA all in your back (All in your back)
I'm impulsive, I'm quick to attack (Quick to attack)
And you suckin' they dick when they called you a rat (Called you a what?)
Hold my knock when I walk in the spot (Grrah-grrah)
So they know I'm on timin', ain't comin' to play (I ain't comin' to play)
Got a thootie, she settin' the trap
Out the window with the rock like, "Who dyin' today?"
Grrah, and I throw like a pitch
No homerun, he runnin' Rick
When I dump on the beat, it's Wockesha I sip
I told Jah, "Take that trip", what?
He get put in the sky like a blimp
Four—four shots, one in the hip, now he walk with a limp (Damn)
I don't speak on the shit that I do
Like a dentist, I flock it, and aim at your tooth (Grrah-grrah, boom)
I be leanin' when I'm in the booth
It's a gun on my lap when I'm up in the stu' (Up in the stu')
When your brother got hit, what the fuck did you do? (Damn)
What? Mix Sprite with Tris (What?)
Niggas ain't hot, they rely on a diss (It's Carter, Dickhead)
And, no, I can't trust on a bitch (Grrah-grrah)
If he talk on the 4 he get put in a ditch (Grrah-grrah)

[Verse 3: Jah Woo]
I spin on my doley, not givin' no warnings
Pushin' up on me, you better be cautious
Bullets gon' hit him, it's leavin' him nauseous
And we smokin' on Nick while these niggas be mournin'
Sendin' these shots, I ain't talkin' no liquor
The first tip I get, we gon' slide there and clip 'em
Fuck Lu, he got put in 'em ditches
It's free up RJ, bro was throwin' 'em pitches
KR my brother, I love him for free
Splittin' them hundreds when I couldn't eat
Shit deep, definition of G
Keep all that fake shit 'cause I cannot take it
Freak bitch, personality basic
Spin on these niggas like Liam from Taken
And I click 'til it break, I'ma hit 'em adjacent

[Chorus: Kyle Richh]
Oh, they got me on hots (Aah)
I'm tryna shoot up the spot (Damn)
I'm tryna send him to Dot (Dotty!)
He can't run, he got hit with the Glock
Fuck a AM, I went for the–
Fuck a AM, I went for the kill (Bitch)
And we been on a million drills (Like, what?)
4100, we gunnin' for real