St. Louis had a moment. A massive one. If you were anywhere near a dance floor in 2007, you didn't just hear the beat; you felt the entire room shift the second that skeletal, snapping percussion kicked in. It was Huey. It was "Pop, Lock & Drop It." And honestly? It was inescapable.
The track wasn't just a song. It was a manual.
People think of the mid-2000s as this era of "ringtone rap," a term often used pejoratively by hip-hop purists to dismiss songs that were catchy enough to be sold as 30-second clips for a Motorola Razr. But that label does a massive disservice to what Lawrence "Huey" Franks Jr. actually accomplished. He took a regional bounce—that specific, gritty St. Louis energy—and polished it into a global phenomenon that peaked at number six on the Billboard Hot 100.
The Anatomy of a Mid-West Monster
What makes it work? Simplicity.
Most producers try to overstuff tracks with layers of synth and complex melodies. J-Kwon’s "Tipsy" did it with a drunken, staggering beat. Chingy did it with a smooth, commercial sheen. But for "Pop, Lock & Drop It," the production (handled by D2) is almost aggressively minimalist. It’s a drum machine, a rhythmic "hey," and a bassline that feels like it’s punching you in the chest.
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Huey’s delivery wasn't about complex metaphors. He wasn't trying to be Nas. He was a conductor. He was telling the club exactly how to move. "Pop, lock, and drop it." It’s an instruction. It’s physical.
The song arrived during the "Snap" era, a subgenre born out of Atlanta’s Bankhead neighborhood. While groups like D4L and Dem Franchize Boyz were leaning into the "Laffy Taffy" vibe, Huey brought a slightly harder edge from the 314. He was only 18 or 19 when the song blew up. Think about that. A teenager from the North Side of St. Louis suddenly had the most played song in the country because he figured out how to make a repetitive hook sound like an anthem.
Why the Dance Outlasted the Chart Run
Dance crazes usually die fast. Remember the "Chicken Noodle Soup"? The "Soulja Boy" (well, that one stayed a bit longer). But "Pop, Lock & Drop It" survived because it tapped into something foundational in hip-hop: the "drop."
In dance culture, specifically within the lineage of New Orleans bounce and Memphis jookin, the "drop" is the climax. By the time the song hit the mainstream, it had been distilled into a TikTok-friendly format years before TikTok even existed. It was modular. You could do it in a club, at a wedding, or in a high school cafeteria.
It also benefited from a legendary remix.
When you get Bow Wow and T-Pain on a track in 2007, you aren't just making a song; you're securing a legacy. T-Pain was the undisputed king of the charts at the time. His inclusion gave the song a melodic bridge that the original lacked, making it more palatable for pop radio while keeping the "stomp" of the original intact.
The St. Louis Sound and the 314 Legacy
We can't talk about Huey without talking about Nelly.
Before Huey, St. Louis was essentially a one-man (or one-crew) show. Nelly and the St. Lunatics had put the city on the map with "Country Grammar," but there was a fear that the city’s success would start and end with them. Huey proved that St. Louis had a "sound" that was reproducible. It was characterized by a specific nasal twang, a heavy emphasis on the "ur" sounds (think "thurr" instead of "there"), and a relentless focus on rhythm over melody.
Huey’s debut album, Notebook Paper, was actually surprisingly solid. While everyone bought it for the lead single, tracks like "Glad 2 Be Alive" showed a kid who was grappling with the violence of his environment. He wasn't just a "dance rapper." He was a product of a city that has consistently struggled with some of the highest crime rates in the US, and his music reflected a desire to escape that through movement.
Sadly, the story of Huey is often overshadowed by how it ended.
In June 2020, Huey was killed in a double shooting in Kinloch, Missouri. He was only 32. It was a devastating blow to a community that saw him as a local hero who never truly left. He wasn't a celebrity who moved to Hidden Hills and forgot the zip code. He was still there. And while the headlines focused on the tragedy, the streets focused on the music.
The Technicality of the "Pop"
Let’s get nerdy for a second. The "Pop, Lock & Drop It" phenomenon wasn't just about the song; it was about the mechanics of the movement.
- The Pop: A sudden contraction of the muscles, usually the chest or shoulders.
- The Lock: A freeze. A momentary pause that creates tension.
- The Drop: A rhythmic descent, usually into a squat, timed perfectly with the heavy 808 kick.
If you watch the original music video—which, by the way, has hundreds of millions of views across various platforms—the choreography isn't professional. It looks like a block party. That was the genius. It felt attainable. You didn't need to be a backup dancer for Usher to do the "Pop, Lock & Drop It." You just needed rhythm and a lack of ego.
Misconceptions About the One-Hit Wonder Label
Is Huey a one-hit wonder? Technically, by the numbers, maybe.
But "one-hit wonder" is a label used by people who only look at the Billboard charts. In the Midwest, Huey was a staple. He had a following that transcended a single track. The problem was the industry shift. 2007-2009 was a chaotic time for the music business. Physical sales were cratering, and streaming wasn't yet a viable revenue stream. A lot of artists from that era got lost in the shuffle of label mergers and bad contracts.
Jive Records, Huey's label, was a powerhouse, but they were also juggling some of the biggest names in the world. Sometimes, a regional star who goes global gets treated like a "moment" rather than a "career." Huey deserved a second act that the industry wasn't equipped to give him at the time.
Why We Still Care in 2026
Nostalgia is a hell of a drug, but it’s not just that.
The song has found a second life in the "Jersey Club" and "Phonk" scenes. Producers are still sampling that dry, crisp snap. It has a DNA that fits perfectly into the high-BPM landscape of modern dance music. When a DJ drops this at a festival today, the reaction from a 21-year-old is identical to the reaction of a 21-year-old in 2007.
It’s visceral.
The track also represents a specific era of Black joy. In the mid-2000s, hip-hop was moving away from the ultra-serious "tough guy" aesthetic of the 50 Cent era and into something more celebratory and communal. Huey was at the forefront of that. He made music that made people want to be together.
How to Properly Appreciate the Huey Legacy
If you want to really understand the impact of this track beyond the surface-level nostalgia, you have to look at how it bridged the gap between the "old" internet and the "new" social media world.
- Go back to the Notebook Paper album: Don't just stream the single. Listen to the production across the whole project. It’s a time capsule of the St. Louis sound.
- Watch the "Pop, Lock & Drop It" Remix video: Watch how T-Pain and Bow Wow interacted with Huey. There was a genuine respect there. They weren't just "hopping on a hit"; they were validating a new voice.
- Study the regionality: Look at how St. Louis rappers like Nelly, Chingy, J-Kwon, and Huey all shared a similar DNA but occupied different lanes. Huey was the "street-club" crossover king.
- Acknowledge the influence on TikTok culture: Modern dance challenges owe everything to the 2007 era. The "instructional rap" format is the blueprint for 90% of viral sounds today.
The best way to honor Huey isn't just to remember the song as a meme or a throwback. It's to recognize that he helped define the rhythm of an entire generation. He took the spirit of a St. Louis neighborhood and made the whole world drop. That’s not just a hit; that’s a legacy.
To keep the momentum going, start by revisiting the 2007 St. Louis rap scene through a curated playlist that includes more than just the radio edits. Look for the local mixtapes from that era to see the raw talent that fueled the mainstream hits. Additionally, support local St. Louis arts organizations that help young artists find the same platform Huey used to change the world.