Artist: JR Writer & Hell Rell
Song:   Pop Off
Typed by: LeShea
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[Hell Rell]
These niggas run when that lead pop off
Lead pop off
Lead pop off
Lead pop off
Lead pop off
Lead pop off
You fuck around and get your head popped off
head popped off
head popped off
head popped off
head popped off
head popped off

[Hell Rell]
Up in the studio gettin blowed
To the truest shit I ever spoke
Rich cuz we got better coke
Yeah we got these niggas by a landslide
Hands high and I'm coo-coo crazy outta my damn mind

[J.R. Writer]
These crookers don't want R to push up in punch cars
With niggas who aim range yall bushes and dump far
These pussies act dumb hard I'ma put the toast on'em
Holes on'em that'll have'em lookin like Sponge Bob

[Hell Rell]
These streets is driving me crazy I gotta get some sanity
Bucket full of yellow bottles that's Christianity
I'm the fuckin truth I ain't gotta lie to yall
Should cop up white Range the color of Tylenol

[J.R. Writer]
Like Mannie Fresh yes I'm into big bills
Big wheels big grill wrist chill big deal
I big deal fifth scale givin them eight
Hollows dig in his face that's what I call a tip drill

[Hell Rell]
Now make me put the shotty up
Then I came back with the tommy gun
Nigga the clip look like a hockey puck
Heard I'm a Jag dropper certified tack popper
Roll with the have-notters but smoke with the back blockers

[J.R. Writer]
You smoke with the back blockers I run the blockers back
A top notch rock chop block shop block of crack
Ock I lap lots of cats popped a pack got it back
Pass the crills half a mill that was just a pocket stack

[Hell Rell]
Ain't no burgers on the grill we ain't cookin out
Coke on the stove Killa good lookin for lookin out
I got my workers workin plus them niggas is lookin out
Never buy a bitch shit she better take the hooker out

[J.R. Writer]
They say yes dude's sane tech do aim
Blow blow get you slain guess who's blame
Me, I'm the bad guy who fly in that stretch new Range
With TV's like a jet blue plane

[Hell Rell]
They say if you don't stand for nothin you fall for anything
Knife, gun, my fist shit I brawl with anything
You get caught with a brick FED's gonna beat you up and lie to you
Show you pictures of me and ask if I'm supplyin you

[J.R. Writer]
I swerve up the biggers eights word with the missin plates
Splurge I just sit in states herbs in a ditch and lake
I heard'em these niggas play and bitch I'm for real
Next time you grill you gonna need a surgeon to fix your face
Holla