VEDLAJSI UCINOK SMRT

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Lyrics:

(A Hype verse)

Yo, let me say something.

There’s been some friends that I’ve lost, out of decency, I won’t go trash ‘em and bash ‘em cause of recency bias, I’ll try this, and let me just say, then from here on out, that ain’t how it work out, okay? No one is perfect, I’ve been dumb, when I’m sure wrecked, you’re checked out as a winner, I make you out as a jerk, doubting sinner, I been a emotional foul style kinda man, this whyna ran off at the mouth, it that when shit go south, that’s the cost. Friends ends when I spends my time picking flaws, tricking jaws to say shit that ain’t true, who tainted this shit really, let not get silly, it me, chilly. Heart done froze, well it’ll be how it goes ‘til I real get a dose, of reality, I’m nailing the point across, it’s not that I can’t go boss mode and to my old chumps, reconcile and mold lumps of broken pieces back, the code ain’t all that, Jesus, y’all at a place maybe, where my face disgraceful still, hey we, both weren’t ready, turnt steady, at the feeling we got from each other, you sure did teach, smother me wit’ reach, I’ve hit a skid since a breach of etiquette, I had a fit, or two, or three, we’re through, who’re you, wit’ out me. Who you was wit’ me, I didn’t get the, “be yourself”, thing down, dang, relinquish my crown, I been fishing now for more matches, just more patches to fill an empt’ heart, exempt from the start of a new path, unless I face this true wrath, and embrace what do add, up like math here, I fucked up, big time, no gig, I’m in need of a bath, clear and cleanse out the sins, spins of this can’t come close though, to when ya homie faint, know we acquaint, as those bro’s, who stay at play, like we ain’t need to be the closest, but our doses, put poise from boys to joys of now our poses, as grown men’s, ownings up to my mistakes, that’s best when alive, cause the rest been a sly sneak peak, at when ya organs tweak weak, then seek what ain’t there, to paint the pic clear, we all gon’ be on sick teary death beds, or your death is breath taken sudden, cool heads prevail but what it is without you is hell, feeling like the red button, being pressed, steaming stressed, fuming this, is cold and harsh, but the new real, a deal that sold and march into my life no choice, no voice in the decision, I can alter the vision, but the slaughter, true collision, new religion the way I pray, you was right here, we quite clear? So, so just trust your gut and do what’s right, befo’ we go and set off into the after life, whatever it is, if it is, but never take this, for granted, bliss is key, give flowers while they can smell, hours of attention for them to see, powers, ascension, that be, what can get in the way of love, the span I ran is free, ‘til the things we attach meaning to, was having me seeing through, the souls and goals of roles, we chose those, let’s be real, some of us, really do deserve coals, the nerve we have has holes, in it’s plan, benefits, mannnnn, we just living crazy, giving lazy takes to change us from fakes, we some snakes, and lately I wouldn’t date me, I rely on what the fate be, do I need to improve? Greatly. On a whim, move? No, this is gon’ be slow, but hey, what may we have, life back on the road. If you towed, just know you’ll be right back, I might slack but I have power over all that, yeah. Laying it down, flat. The facts, to the max.

The Beginning of the re birth of realization, respecting the righteous and repenting for running my jaw off like a rash.

The Speech Before The Funeral Speech (Eulogy 3) (The Beginning Remix) (Feat. Vynal) (Prod. truves)

This is a beat tape ep that i made between like 5-8 hours the night of June 12th/Early June 13th, 2024 (I turned 21)

wowimadethusonmybirthdayim21woiw!!! (prod. DJ 20124)

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Lyrics:

Y’all can catch me, simply relaxing, limply cause my backs bent, the facts is my posture is some wack shit. To last forever and ever I gotta get mo’ clever, take better care of self, make each endeavor share my wealth, wit’ not just those I trust and lust fo’, I must go, close this bind I have inside, nav’ the ride up through what I hide, my inner winner, fuck a sinner I been a spinner, so sensational, pull like gravitational. In full I hate to go brag, so no bag, talk but yes I walk the line of fine dine, Red Robin, my head bobbin’ to the music playing, who’s lick I hit is honestly only the chicken displaying, plus the fries, this is lies if I were to, assure you I be by my lonely, hitting dudes wit’ guns, man we can be so rudes wit’ ones, that shoot down ya spine, and that’s just hateful words, imagine a gat pull, herds of y’all running, the gunning got a mall humming. Summon the police, and fuck ‘em, no mistake. But duck ‘em later, even a hater sees the impact. We’s the dim lackluster cluster of beings, we could be doing mo’ freeings but we choose to use war to kill, more will spill blood, this allure for war ain’t minor crud. Not a whyna dud, I look and wanna stop it, while the rich style a bitch and they wanna profit.

Fuck ‘em all.

But let’s have this dinner, bets on the finer things in this food like the bottomless steak fries, no fake guys at my table, me, myself, I. Quite a light weight in stable, this ain’t a hating fable. I just need to heed to looking out for me as I, said early, to dead yearly suicidal thoughts, let ‘em pass by, so vital I broughts up the ways to stays peak sky fly like gas high. That’s why, I’m still here, A Hype, stay ripe, feel it clear? So real in here, appealin’ or not I’m illin’, this is what I got.

This Is What I Got (Prod. DJ 20124)

i made this beat for a posse cut. if u fw it, send me 8-32 bar verses or hooks and i’ll slap em in <3




I DID NOT USE SAN SALVADORE BY THAT FUCKING GUY THIS IS AN ORIGINAL FUCKING SONG THAT I PRODUCED PLEASE DO NOT COPYRIGHT CLAIM ME AGAIN YOU STUPID SONS OF BITCHES !!!!! <3

posse cut beat - prod. DJ 20124 - 150 bpm (original beat do not fucking claim this bruh)

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Music on all platforms under A Hype

Lyrics:

BLAM BLAM!!! Not the sound of gunshots, just an awakening, Hype is raking in his entrance he be taking in. From the morn’ when I making bacon then, to the eve when I believe, I’m the mother fucking don, man. This the mother fucking song, man. From the morn’ when I come reborn, to the night when I incite, my red light up on yo ass, don’t make a bitch mother fucker laugh. What a gaffe, he just half of the worthy being. This earth be seeing bitches rise, stay in yo fucking niches, guys. BLAM BLAM!!! Damn mam, didn’t mean to scare ya. I’m so fucking pumped, but no blow in the area. Mass hysteria, gas ‘em up and this is malaria. The way ego is a disease, we know the G’s, don’t make you them G’s!!!! Won’t shake the dice, and fake not nice. I know my role, I fall under the suburban. Swervin’ just ain’t my thing, I’ll never ever taint that bling bling. Acting like I came out the mud for it, but I tell ya, what the hell is that?!? Sorry, had to take a look, this mother fucker shaking shook. Cause he was the imitator, loves rap? Dim and a hater, deep inside, go peep his ride, he playing that dumb ass fuck shit. I can’t support Morgan Wallen, drunk or not he said it. Ja Morant in short the way you small or tall in size we still will be ballin’ and dunk on yo ass. Piece of shit, we dead it. Not the sound of gunshots, got the crown of fun plots, fought the town fo’ no jots, no one tryna stop me. Pop me, certainly, no one hurting me, I’m blessed as fuck. So when I say I’m stressed as fuck, I’m still so lucky. Not the sound of gunshots bucking, I brought the mound and pitched dots, from it, no plummet, no Tommy John. I’m the strong don and it’s on. But wait … is this imagery, bad enough? Mad the tough is sad and bluff? What bait? Nah I know what I’m doing! Cut that out and pout ‘bout suburban doing. The blurb “it’s a shoo-in” couldn’t be more right. We take things for granted, like the seeds we planted, will grow up and sow up they own next gen, I blown specs in my field though, yo. Cause I wield no, good looks. Self hating fo’ the bad hooks. God damn, like wood chucks. Where the fuck is this going? I’m knowing, that I’m not knowing, got growing sense that I’m, losing sense, oozing tense that confusing dense, here’s the hook I promise, hope I don’t bomb this.

FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK A FAKE, LIFE.

I HATE MY FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK YOUR FAKE, LIFE.

FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK A FAKE, LIFE.

I HATE MY FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK YOUR FAKE, LIFE.

FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK A FAKE, LIFE.

I HATE MY FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK YOUR FAKE, LIFE.

FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK A FAKE, LIFE.

I HATE MY FAKE, LIFE.

FUCK YOUR FAKE, LIFE.

Fake Life (Prod. DJ 20124)

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Twitter/X: therealahype1
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Music on all platforms under A Hype

Lyrics:

You can catch me, free styling, we whyling all down the allies, me and my Insta crew, my wins a few of my tally’s, I cross, a boss, isn’t measured by his success off one, he done run his shit by how it feel, that the deal, fun, I’m in it for fun, give me my crown, king of fun, in this thing I’m one.

You can catch me, free styling, we whyling all down the allies, me and my Insta crew, my wins a few of my tally’s, I cross, a boss, isn’t measured by his success off one, he done run his shit by how it feel, that the deal, fun, I’m in it for fun, give me my crown, king of fun, in this thing I’m one.

You can catch me, free styling, we whyling all down the allies, me and my Insta crew, my wins a few of my tally’s, I cross, a boss, isn’t measured by his success off one, he done run his shit by how it feel, that the deal, fun, I’m in it for fun, give me my crown, king of fun, in this thing I’m one.

You can catch me, bitch, king of fun, fuck it, I’m done.

Yo.

King Of Fun (Prod. DJ 20124)

Lyrics:

Me and my homie Max getting some food, please just know we stacks all the mood up to good, wit’ ease, relax and chill, letting the slacks of thrill, wit’ no pressure activate as we attack a great, fresher meal deal wit’ our mandibles, our power ran the rolls down the tummy all processed as yummy, crummy, well food is not all that, ‘cause as I stressed, swell mood, bliss, got all that? We at a point in life where the joy we share is rife, a boy could toy wit’ galore BK to share but what there in the freedom, my parents wouldn’t let me get the apps, see, from those I chose a real deal, the snaps I send Max show ‘em, we pulling up to this location, I bend facts I’ll admit at instances, sad shit, but this is his ovation, my own one I give, to food, and it too good to distances what they give as a fake, what they make lit, like cake mix, you want a Whopper? Not just one, bake six! I flaunt a show stopper when I then be flow chopper, and now I vow to eat my burger, fuck with me I’ll kill you with a girder, until through, wit’ this meal, this is just how the fuck I do feel, true, real, wow, the suck of straw action, have me feel real deal of the drink, raw reaction, is I think, this shit really smacks, ideally, ate great wit’ the homie Max.

Food With The Homie (Prod. DJ 20124)

Here are 4 orriginal compositions -- created, performed, and recorded by our students at Island Pacific Academy in Kapolei, Hawaii. Hope you enjoy their music. 

Rough Draft

For You (Feat. Hunter Sorenson)

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Twitter/X: therealahype1
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Music on all platforms under A Hype

Underground life form from Slovakia🇸🇰
Based in Prague🇨🇿
(Former Alfa Sekta member)
Rapper, stoner, whiskey drinker, ps4 gamer, book reader, bull-shitter, irony dealer.

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