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.DJ 20124) (Prod.truves)

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Lyrics:

Bitch better have, my Honey Nut Cheerios. The OG, ya know me, I ain’t want it for that money, but very close. So go be, racing back on the runny, that teary dose, of mad a tad hit if it ain’t fit, this ain’t a funny, what dreary blows, this is to my head, I wanted a bliss, his bee self chef, prep wit’ rep and on the shelf, sped, to the box to get lots, on the spots, if, you don’t understand the wonderland, send shots, go send ya friend an email, detail, why you need to resell, your mind on the kind of find, that bee make, rethink ya inner sinner bind. Be a winner, lined up wit’ this shit, yup. But back to the issue, this shit is that wack, I gotta diss you, cause ya does not bring it to me, truly, that bee of the HNC. Go sling ya car, near or far, to where we spar, wit’ coupons and mo’, the grocery sto’, where food spawns and this dude on’s sight, is met wit’ might of that bee, HNC, I’m catchin’ free form falling for the balling I could and would do, wit’ a balanced breakfast, challenged, accepted. Wake, vast, ‘tunities in the day, scrutinies they at play, but wit’ HNC, no way do I care, I share the power of bee, ain’t a fucking way this shit devouring me. I eat so much, such trips to the shit room, take a long time, show how strong I’m in wit’ the eating, and meeting this is the need to heed to the sink, to drink, it take a hour to pee. Bitch, rich or poor can itch for more, so yo, no excuse, did you go and use, your dough to sure show you have the exchange, for the HNC, stay tuned for the next strange, tale after, but I’ll capture, the ending of this, I was sending my diss, but then he got back, when the hot stack, of boxes was revealed, I does the feeled, the hip hip, hurray party! Fuck paying taxes, that’s for another time, right now I might bow down again to, the bee of HNC, the crown in the cereal venue.

Honey Nut Cheerios (Prod. DJ 20124)

FUCK SHED THEORY !!!!!!!!

Lyrics:

You can’t Shed this Theory, you bitches better hear me clearly, I’m about to dead this white trash that yearly spread like a rash up on the scene, I mean just look at Sam, damn you fucked up Neo-Nazi fiend, Hoeyy sucked up to you, well that fucker tainted, I don’t blend fiction with fact, your diction is that, “us be bad, we ain’t it!”. Yeah, then explain Peter Thiel funding Hoeyy, abundant dough we know be from that Republican sex scandal bitch ass, rich class fuck up, I don’t suck up to ya crew, I knew ya do drugs and pose like bitches with slugs though, ya hoes, you can’t handle the truth, that your white racist fanbase is too dumb to search like a sleuth, go face this, that in the booth, besides lacking skills you just packing pills, urgent for loot, if not from Peter Thiel then you set sail on pandering, to homophobic dirt of the Earth dampering devils, you evils gotta fucking die, go fucking try. Pampering nothing, Sam a fucking obsessive pedo, can’t hide (Hyde) from that, and you mother fuckers don’t even talk clearly, it’s like congestive weirdo unit up in here, mother fucker, due! This been fair to shoot when you fucka sucka’s root for white N word users like Ricky Chix, there’s proof, get the clicks up on the links, at McDonald’s this mother fucker said it, don’t forget it, stick the pics of ya wanna be gangsta fits down the drain, Facy a wasty part of this world, yeah, and Jack Dugan dropped out of college, ya lack knowledge, yeah, who can raise awareness, we need it, yeah, so heed to this shit and don’t just praise and share this, no, do your research, the merch you buy and the music you try, is funding Sam Hyde, you fuckers should’ve damn died, hey Marlon, you see Ricky hurling that word ya heard and don’t do shit? What about that iron cross tat, I’m firin’ shots that, gots at your core issues, but really do your part, don’t be followers, fuck up these hollow blurs of the industry now gone, how long we gon’ put up with this, racist white Nazi pieces of shit, ceases, that’s it.

Oh wait that’s not it, Hoeyy you transphobic bitch, go quick in a ditch, ya mans bicflame has got a real sick aim, I don’t fuck with demons, the screamings of y’all stalking my page, don’t alert me, just insert me as I’m walking this thing, you just talking this gang bang, I don’t claim it, you pussies hang with loser abuser lames, no games, Jack on the upper west side of New York and can’t Purchase this flow I have, he will understand, I spit wonderland and do walk what I mean. Sure, base your taste on a fat drug addict scheme waste. That mug I’ve had it wit’, lace ya lean wit’ gullitine in a pill, slice ya neck, would be nice as heck, and hell is where ya dwell, see ya soon there you bitch ass racist homophobic Neo-Nazi pedo abiding siding mother fuckers.

Dead Theory (Prod. Mark Jones)

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Lyrics:

(A Hype verse)

Screw acting cool, throwing hand signs and blowing like land mines only attracting a fool, then when you see what truly be you retracting, go back in school. You don’t wanna play dumb, be from the slum, you oughta boughta ray gun at least if you gonna say sum’. Hey, done is my sly fake spray numb, ass thinking class is fo’ the dull one. Yeah it no fun, but go, run, if you wanna live that life, go give that knife to the back of yo opponent, stab ‘em, don’t just jab ‘em. Why you laugh, um, you think this shit a gaffe? Bum! People really will kill, I’m proud of where I am, a place where my face is safe, no strafe from above, I love my glove like protection, holding me down, now then, how in the fuck does that excuse this use, drunk mother fucker at the intersection. It don’t and won’t, enter the center wreckin’ of our car. And now I admit this sad shit, I go too far. Playing Jeezy loud like a crowd, I shout out each bar. Weezy too, these a few of my fav’ stars. They pave the road oh so fars, YOLO is what they say, shoot fo’ stars, root yo peers on and stay strong. But what I’m not gonna do, is pretend I stand a G in the, wanna shoot? Kinda sense, mind my dense vocab, on the mute, you can’t taint what I say if you don’t fairly listen. Air the tension, out no doubt if you ‘bout the cleansin’, of some young, sprung from the gun wit’ none suspension. Just auto fire, gotta dire situation, that peeps glisten to, deeps, nah, but who behind it, rewind it, walk a mile in they shoes, talk a style that they use, fuck it see all they views. Lot to it, got through shit that minor to some. Designer from tongue, I spit legit but know where I’m from. And when I say what I say, I stay out of way, from the real tough streets, I don’t ever bluff heats. If you hear what I gear myself up for, it’s mental health shit, and maybe eating supper. I ain’t rougher than a pebble, so stealth wit’ heat I don’t begin to meet, don’t kid yourself or a fib you’ll. Learn the hard way, burn in the yard, may be, your head on the shelf of a killers wall, who knows? Go trust and just don’t get into it, reminder from the finder of trial and error, I do affair in shit that I learn not to. Turn a new page, earn a blew wage, blew as in blown up, your price getting sown up, when you realize you mad nice as you grown up. But not in aged, gotten caged after 18. For thinking I am who I not, I got sinking. Not drinking, but I was so slurry, go worry out ‘bout all I brought to me in a hurry. Life, it taught to me, don’t believe the Hype. And I stand on land still cause I let ‘em hand pill, to me and accepted help, medicine when you let it’s thing in, it really make you feel yo self. Neglected, welp, you gon’ be on yo own. But point is, be proud of you, get the hint? This, is a living where we giving from diff’ angles, just do not bust yo spot and stay, if you mangles. You might slight and miff, dangles from can’t go back, I want no wack, well then, stop swellin’ ya ego, we know ya pop when you try to spry on what you ain’t, you taint and you die inside, the ride of my learnings, the turn bends but ends okay, now go play.

Go Play (Feat. DJ 20124) (Prod. DJ 20124)

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music on all platforms under A Hype

Lyrics:

Yeah, win the Nati, fuck the Nati, listen, look.

I’m a winner, born sinner, yet I still get the, Nati, after no denying we be trying so hard, we go, Party, on the other hand on this land there be the, Nati, third eye see all, be small or else you a, target. Uh, what the fuck am I saying, I ain’t saying they be spraying but just watch yo back. Secret society, uh, nah fuck that, back at them conspiracies, you can be delirious, but let be serious, my guy ‘Pac ‘ready made Killuminati. There ain’t a body that really is sorry to belong to some dumb shit that don’t, exist. I insist, no fist that’ll knock you out for an eye on a 1 dollar bill back. I rock out no doubt, holla at, me, yeah. I go try, to thrill the ill crowd over Whirley production, I get loud, I demand my ice cream the way a swirl be, quite a nice dream, quite a concoction. And that’s how I win, the Nati, and rats! Ya been believing Nati, I don’t want you living life in fear, there’s strife but not that way, quite, clear? Aight, hear me out. I’m just joking, lust poking fun at shiiit, to cope wit’ my moping shiiit, I’m hoping shit get, better. Life’s a trend setter that end better when you follow only if you want, fame can haunt and make ya hollow. The pursuit, sure, loot but that taxing. I ain’t in too deep, too steep yet, no backs in. Against the wall, aight y’all just say it, spray it, ‘fore I’m decaying I want this shit to be playing.

Yeah, win the Nati, but fuck the Nati.

Natti (Prod. Whirley)

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Lyrics:

Yeah, Boxers Or Bra? Huh? Which one is it? I know.

There’s a picture of Canibus, I’m not talking the substance, I rather mean the rapper. Gather what ya seen from the cover, is it laughter? Cause it was so obvious after seeing it? Am I just a lust yapper, tryna believe in shit that ya gotta be naive to not see clearly, yet. I get so defensive, knowing I am right, those ain’t boxers, those bra, my nose could sniff it out, if there doubt, I’ll just thrust in my “you should be trustin’ me, no question!” spree of tryna make you believe, but it ain’t a bra, maybe say we could use magic like “TA-DAH!” or imagination to ramage wild through the nation, what you see is the false, toss that shit across, the room, KA-BOOM! What you see ain’t that, I paint at a diff’ view, if you still will miff, screw you, go through hell and never return, I’m fucking sure for sure these ain’t boxers, the jokes is on you, I been through group chat grief o’vo’ defending my stance, they ain’t even pending a chance, just demanding my trance of ill will be gone, but what the fuck … I’m right, no slow dim sight. It’s HIM, aight? A Hype, and Canibus wears a bra, there’s a star in the making, from the jaw he be breaking rhymes by syllables, while his style is inclusive, fuck the ridicules, he be feeling fools, that just give ‘em more reas’, to do as he please, you want a pure squeeze of my emotion, my devotion for equality is all love, to haters, I shove. Debaters, just ain’t seeing right, like how ‘Bis wears a bra each and every night. I preach and levy heavy fight, in the bra community, my unity can’t be fucked wit’, impunity. Canibus, no box, also no locs, mother fucker bald as shit, I called what I see and how now it be, this is what ya get for not seeing an angle correctly. Ya dangle ya mangle view to misconstrue, but I sure checked the pic and that shit ain’t cover over his dick. He got no boobs, but he gotta bra. We shot no nudes, but we know it true. Thanks for letting me show to you the truth, we through the roof with material, A Hype is the imperial.

Boxers Or Bra? (Prod. ticox)

Lyrics that are mostly accurate but not 100% tbh:

When I chew those Starbursts, I’m way up on vacation. Up past the stratosphere, welcome to my Space Station. And there’s a race datin’ back to the origins, of man kind, who can find the span I’m on, c’mon I’m Neil Armstrong, first step, a big time, the gig I’m in I emburse prep into, yep. Collecting data in my brain’s storage bins, to spit out and solve any given solution, we living in confusion, but Hype is here, the type of peer to stay ripe and clear, A Hype is here, yeah. Space Station where ya find me. A place where hatin’ is behind me. I face the matin’ game up on Earth. Too ugly and lame to birth. But here I can plant my seeds. That dear to my heart indeed. What clear is my rant of greeds. I myself can fall too, so heed. To shelf the ball big mentality. If we talking big head. Now then there’s a nuance, cause I know I got this yo, and my soul is hotness through, all the cold, y’all so bold maybe in your thinking. But what you really doing, pursing. Maybe drinking, I’m dunking, I do the latter, no bladder, explode, I get spelunking to the next mode. Gotta search the fucking underground, be careful who you side and ride wit’, it aight to hide shit. Cause right when you trust, that lust is turned to dust, thus us must know this. Yes, when I chew, it then I flew, up to the heights, wassup wit’ them slights? I’m above the rim wit’ flights, can’t show no love from here. I ascended, way past lended, I’m fucking staying here, praying there on Earth you find your true worth. I have Starbursts for supply, your worsts somebody’s highs, so do or die can be a blessing, the lesson is you still breathing, I wanna save you all, pave you all a road from kill grieving. Toward the terror, here is a big “FUCK YOU!”, and I guess that stress still will send a chill, end a thrill, but my friend until we see change, shit gon’ be on strange, fo’ eons in this game, oh, my station starting to tame, departing it lane, quick! Stick this down ya throat, float back to mine peace and sanity, this shit litty up in space, if only I could then be here forever, ever, ever. Sever the ties of these fucking lies, stay at play, clever tries for youth to never dies. The truth I hides, abides by inspiration, that I need just as much, such touch of dedication. I preach and teach, I need to feed through these and reach. Capeesh? But you just wanna hear me sappy happy. So fuck it, the Space Station, the pace settin’, the trace of gettin’ every face we hittin’ wit’in wit’ love, now taste sensation.

Space Station (Prod. Reed Kanero)

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Lyrics:

(A Hype verse)

Yo, eating some chicken tenders, heating up the stuff stupendous, is the guy behind the register, yes sir he be the bestest. Licking all the sauce of course, picking spice so nice, it cost is coming with the meal deal, summing it up, the cup of ill, water, it slaughter anything hotter than the man can handle, I’m talking Mad Chicken, glad I’m kicking it from there, I stand o’vo’ the food and think with my drink, where we be colder than an ice rink, be bolder or ya sink, if ya hold up, ya could miss, don’t think, just do, trust you, give it a shot, live it or not, take a chance on you, the chants they do try to pursue, but you know who you is, I’m Hype, the type to celebrate. Milwaukee be the place, still talking up in the face and down to the shoes, my every move I drown in the ooze from resounding proves, I don’t say it to spray it I mean it, I seen shit tear me apart, wearing my heart on my sleeve will get you that, but I don’t regret it at all, I won’t let it become my down fall, is ya dumb? Thinking I will stall, linking to kill all of my demons inside, with my therapist, clear is the tide, turning my way, I’m learning by day, I control my ocean, Poseidon has motion, still glidin’ despite the wave, reciting the light that save, me is to Keep Ya Head Up, never let up, through every dark night, a better day after that, but back to eating the chicken tenders right, beating from the drum is splendid aight, I strung my tongue now go get ascended, right.

AyooHype (Feat. AyooLii) (Prod. feardorian)

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Lyrics:

Yeah, I got speed, Jimmie Johnson. Hype a rare breed, the type to wear bleed. Show my sweat and tears, no mo’ letting fears in the way, when I say it’s full throttle we pull no bull coddle, just the truth from booth to race, since a youth I been setting the pace, wild child would wince at the roof, knowing the sky the limit, I’m high up in it. Getting my Chase on, but we ain’t talking banks. We talking walking at a 200 Mile pace. Per Hour, your power can’t be held back, thanks for the fuel, I rule, shine like a jewel. Mine is so cool, shelled shock is those doubters. I got speed like routers, Jimmie Johnson, HIMMY in Wisconsin. This is NASCAR, the way I blend hip hop call it Nas-Car. It Was Written, get this lit man in the vehicle, he can maneuver out of any pickle. We ran the scooter as a young boy, now we wow in the fast lane and done toy, wit’ the past pain, it behind, no rewind, go see what the fuck I find now up in the vast thang. Not so stuck anymore, I ran the tour, stage points, 1st place, amaze joints. To try to gauge the race, I blaze the place, embursed on a journey, winning the tourney, from, spinning and learning, to come, winning and yearning, this is racing, this shit I am embracing.

NASCAR (Prod. basedbxtchmaebi)

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Lyrics:

(A Hype verse 1)

Just like the title, shit can get Rocky, trust is so vital, disrespect? Well fuck ya intellect, then get clocked, beat punch by punch, have a seat hunched over, blow up like a supernova, I’m a hooper and a stove the way I stay on fire, sow up the game wit’ flame and inspire, been higher than Devin The Dude, so high my fly ass on heaven, being rude to Jesus, not to please this non believers down on Earth, but us achievers drown the worth of deities out, no doubt, I pray to the Great Mighty Triscuit, I ate eighty, much better than a biscuit. Such wetter my feet is, in giving yo ass beatings, I fought that dude at the YMCA, Fuck The YMCA, I struck his ass, I don’t play. April of 2021, you vape? Chill, I’m housin’ plenty strung smoke from tongue, get high on that, I brought the rude takes in, the scorn makes men who they are, stop being a Corn Flakes bin. Take a joke you fucking joke. Me and Joe Biden do no hidin’, we got the smoke. Mother fucker this is not just a poke, got this I know. Go down for 10, I clown ya men, the crown is again back to its rightful holder. Spiteful bolder forces have tried to contest, c’mon, give it a rest, I’m livid at best, shivering a test to see if I still have it, I save fist for my toughest foes, Joe knows like Bo knows, Trilla Owl featuring Grono, killa style, my group chat humor is, Joe go peel ‘em and kill ‘em, more than a tumor does, no rumorings.

GET ‘EM JOE!!!!

(Joe Biden verse)

me and a hype on the track like co op my cup red like lohan whippin the trackhawk this is the prologue shit can get rocky when you fuck with quahog i know dog i got the whole game on lock they said you can't teach and old dog new tricks then i got in the lab bitch suck my dick call me king push i'm pushing bricks spent my whole life grindin shout out to clipse unlike reagan my style don't crack i've been underrated im bound to get a plaque they see ive upgraded they cant handle that this wocky got me faded i cant handle that *falls asleep*

(A Hype verse 2)

Joe a no show, he dropped out. Popped route out of the shout bout, ‘bout clout. He and Trump are fools, tools of the trade that made very cheaply, peep the sleep sly things they do for votes, better off humping yourself, rings are cool but notes, saying I saved your life and your wife are even more, I believe in core qualities, sure calamities are tough and rough but that stuff bluff if you snuff them out wit’ what him ‘bout. Love, Longevity, Loyalty, Learning. Love, well I’m one of many souls. Not above you, true to fun and my goals. Longevity, wit’ what I say I stay strong, able to be truly mo’ than stable, as I amass my levy heavy spree of tough tribulations, I don’t fib my salutations. I needed a break, heeded that take. Loyalty, that’s royalty. Can never ever foil me, boil me. Learning, yearning, brightly burning, from night be turning, to come light and morning.

Vote for A Hype in ‘24.
We will have fun plenty more.

Vote for A Hype in ‘24.
We will have fun plenty more.


MOTHER FUCKER!!!

Rocky (Feat. Joe Biden) (Prod. Mike Turtle)

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