yuuup

pussy runnin man i send him to the cemetery
big clip let it hit boy its gettin kinda
heavy
read u a bitch in ur obituary
he zig and zaggin but im keep my smith and wesson steady
he aint gettin out of this one
he bleedin in the cut
cause i aint miss one
gotta choppa n im clearin out the clip son
u talkin shit i got a list n u the next one
i know u talk alot
yea that true
aimin down my scope like what it do
3 digit body count whats it to u
FMJ said fuck a wall it clippin thru
cant sleep cant sleep so i smoke more
gettin stupid w grim n we at ur front door
take his blood from his body its in a mason jar
foot up on the gas while he duckin from the AR
u smokin on meth?
shut the fuck up
100bandz on my dash start the truck up
in beamer n he lookin hella scary ugh
*gothmog bitch*
better get up out our area
pussy runnin man i send him to the cemetery
big clip let it hit boy its gettin kinda
heavy
read u a bitch in ur obituary
he zig and zaggin but im keep my smith and wesson steady
he aint gettin out of this one
he bleedin in the cut
cause i aint miss one
gotta choppa n im clearin out the clip son
u talkin shit i got a list n u the next one

shutup! p. fausto

step in 2 the function leave em sweatin
50 bmg get 2 beheadin
beat his pussy ass i rob him for his necklace
he seemin feeble so i grab my smith n wesson
u talkin shit n we gon leave u in the dirt!
u think u slick boy i can see it in ur smirk
lets see u flexin while i redden up ur shirt
pulled up in a coupe n now he leavin in a hearse
richie shootin from the window of the truck
smokin on this thraxx it got me stuck
green beam got his team throwin up (blegh)
claim he bangin but im sayin hes a punk
flaco thats my brother thats my twin
slug takin off more than he can stitch (boaw)
this g l o c k gon leave u wet
b u l l e t r a n k thats the set
u goin out sad 
said that u should quit 
i guess its my bad
side track lookin at my wrist like where the time at
lay low
im ahead cause i got cheat codes
free throw
boy u just a puff im givin free smoke
ive had enough yea
talkin all that shit i guess its time i call ur bluff yea
i think im heaven sent meet me n the arena tho
chirpin in my mentions i pull up in ur area code
step in 2 the function leave em sweatin
50 bmg get 2 beheadin
beat his pussy ass i rob him for his necklace
he seemin feeble so i grab my smith n wesson
u talkin shit n we gon leave u in the dirt!
u think u slick boy i can see it in ur smirk
lets see u flexin while i redden up ur shirt
pulled up in a coupe n now he leavin in a hearse

sweatin p. samyool + fausto

moth lullaby [rezlaine]

breaking down [rezlaine]

hellbound w/ richiewestside + høneygrim

helena absolutely killed this holy fuck

i think im running out of options
a firm believer in pistols solving my problems
im sinkin deeper i got archamedes scoffing
i look behind me when i walking
a 
manifestion of "something is feeling off"
i got a bullet wit a name im confirming it wit a nod
a different story every day but i swear that ive read enough
to know one day into the next is the feeling of falling off

one breath just isnt enough
i make a big exit no fisticuffs 
i got
2 roads that i left behind
bitch step aside
i know u dont wanna 

try me

fuck off with the big talk 
made a little money now u walkin like a big dawg
take a breather u dont wanna get me pissed off
spittin shit a way to get ur neck cinched off

im him
you dont wanna step to me bitch im him
you dont wanna talk to me bitch im him
you dont wanna look at me bitch im him
bitch im him
bitch im him
you dont wanna step to me bitch im him
you dont wanna talk to me bitch im him
you dont wanna look at me bitch im him
bitch im him
bitch im

him p. 65finally

Lyrics:

(A Hype verse)

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, play basketball, till I decay in a casket y’all.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, the pain I mask it all, I suggest don’t ask shit y’all.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, watch top notch sports, hold my crotch in my shorts.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, botch all kinda sorts, of shit, I can’t mind my thoughts.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, find love that one of, a kind and bind away and shove.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, conceal passion like a glove, feel smashin’, dashin’ love.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, eat a plate of pasta, heat it great I gots to.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, say fuck what it cost ya, gots to eat that pasta.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, collab with gab and do it fab, attention I knew it grab.

Yeah, I do it for real yeah, go to store and nab a shoe, sure joy, Yabba Dabba doo.

I Do It For Real Yeah (Feat. FIVEE) (Prod. FIVEE)

Lyrics:

Ready? Let’s go.

In this business I don’t give a fuck if I sell a bit. I’m in it to win it for my fam, no luck, not some damn spinning. On my record, now check it, I wreck shit, yell a fit. If you ever doubted me, I’m out to be happy grinning. No sappy ending, I’m sending the harsh reality. Life a tragedy, just gotta march on, how sad it be. But the calamity I wear like a badge of the honor. Given to those who driven, I ain’t gon’ be a goner. On ya desires, I fuel the fires and keep them hopes. Alive, in strive, ya jive to my sky high dopes. When life knock me down, I block the clown who moody. Gotta cease the bull to have lotta peace in full. Dude, he ain’t know what he on, claims. That come from dumb names, get blocked like LeBron James. The strong frames I’m blowing away, flowing astray. Ya wanna hear me flaunt about the clout, yearly I amount. Uhhhh, I ain’t gonna do that. Can’t paint the picture like I wasn’t once the new cat. Who burned bridges, I learned smidges bit by bit. To turn from dunce to learn to pounce on being legit, seeing the shit. Grow, I attack the mic like it my first song. Yo, why ya slack? Get back and burst on. That scene like ya mean it, I been wit’ the losses. I started to ride, when to the side I did toss this. Departed the died soul, my eyed goal I push to. To my foes, bros or hoes, the case I close and hush you. I base the pro’s and con’s on my own self belief. I chase the flows of don’s, so yeah to be brief. Shoutout Hov, shoutout Nas, ya can loathe bout being ass. Or have drove to top class, by how ya clothe ya brain and gas. Ya gain in mass, cause ya need to believe. Exceed and achieve past the limit, from last to vast past the dim shit. I’m tryna work on it, every day and levy say. Into a heavy way of impact, cause I’m Him, fact.

Trying to be the best me I can. And just when I think I’ve reached it, I push it even more. And so on, and so on, and so on. Have an amazing day.

Impact (Prod. Musa)

Lyrics:

You know what sounds good? A Burger King sandwich. Whopper, nah, make it a triple whopper.

Welcome to BK, may I take ya order? On my mind is replay of when they make the recorder. Of this tune, feel strewn with the good taste. I love this noon food that soon will be ate with haste. The mood is good, on my plate is a Whopper. I’m the copper of the prize, BK shopper kinda eyes. Blue hue, blonde hair, I was spawned where. I got one 10 minutes from me, the glee been in it’s tummy. He 5 foot 11, he live up in heaven. When he eat, beat that meat, wait, hold up. I bold up the statements, make my whopper triple. Never fold up with greatness, though the butt chopper ripple. The next day, I guess maybe the poop’ll hurt. But hate spents on the John worth the fate this is on. A text, hey that’s not getting it through to you. Stress, me, get cured by BK insured. Quadruple cart after cart of BK supply. Try to make my own freshly grown French Fry. I mesh the blown up recipe with my testy me. But to clench my interest, ya gotta spin breast. In my face, I love boobs, with grace on ‘Tubes. Still, what mo’ ill, is BK wit’ no chill. Fucking up that lettuce, tomato and potato. Who eat the most I boast go bet us, me and my ego bravado.

Hello? Yeah, this is A Hype. Yo, I’m hungry. Get me some food, dude. C’mon now, I’m starving. I want some boobs in my face too, as I mentioned, I love boobs with grace on ‘Tubes. Am I gay or not? Fuck it, show me your pubes. Stank ass bitch.

on the roof 1+2 w/ urlrot

fausto313

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