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Lyrics:

BAMBAM BAMBAM HEY BAMBAM WOW BAMBAM BAMBAM

Uh, rapping with the BAMBAM. Finna hit it out the park, this a Grand Slam. I wanna get it light and dark, 24/7. Play it when calm and when a fight spark, play it in Heaven. Play it even, if you don’t believe in, a reason, many more songs I got teasin’, this season, this is just the start of the art, ya been warned. Now shut the fuck up and let me do my part, I got it warm, I got it cold. Hot the mold, frigid but not rigid. I’ve been scorned, fuck what ya feel though, on the real though, this is how I heal yo, this is how I feel yo. BAMBAM.

BAMBAM BAMBAM HEY BAMBAM WOW BAMBAM BAMBAM

What the fuck is up. A Hype just had himself a cup. Dim self would be drinking leeeeean. He drinking soy milk. Do you know, what I meeeeeean. It my joy, silk, down the throat, I go to town on the moat of liquid, down my throat, the GOAT, I beside, myself, when my creativity, shelf! We, craving me, help! And yes I need it, but wait, do I exceed it? Listen to the thoughts in my head, if I drops dead, my pops plead … I don’t know, down that path he don’t go. But death I think about, no mother fucking doubt. NO MOTHER FUCKING DOUBT!

BAMBAM BAMBAM HEY BAMBAM WOW BAMBAM BAMBAM

BAMBAM (Prod. prodbybaez)

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Lyrics:

Yeah, Ha, Ha. Taking it back. Ha, ha, ha!

You running around on Discord Ha

You having fun wit’ the sound and ya bound to be this floored Ha

when ya see I be the star Ha

Fuck being far Ha

From the lime light, I rhyme right, it’s time, aight? I spar Ha

With the tactics, fuck a sucka theatrics Ha

I ain’t into the antics, I been through the backflips Ha

To force a course in relationships Ha

I ain’t saying I praying I mack bitches but I pack itches to attack snitches on who did what wit’ me Ha

We flexing sexing in private, I’m irate if on TV Ha

Relationships should be a celebration status Ha

I could’ve should’ve would’ve, well hell no need to dwell Ha

That is at just not trust but matters in all the parts Ha

Broken hearts Ha, could see it be from spoken starts Ha

Awoken now I evoke a vow I made to take some time, make glum I’m investing in not a future thing for questioning, Ha, yah, I played a fake ass mine, no mind, I go find, my glow shine, but it ‘ready been there, now did he stutter? No, I gots the power, shots per hour putting up, training in hooping gaining, shutting up the lame men, straining to be taming my fly game in, point, you snooping down to a clown place, face the frown, taste the crown, I done did and kid around, you mid around, where I step, there they prep to bid the ground. What I touch is such an iconic thing, ebonic slang, I been a classic before my time like The Chronic, bring my CD out the plastic, sing and we be reaching heights that teaching flights what height really is, like Apatosaurus, Jurassic, I fight silly cause I does play wit’ words, spray what I slay, today I shot at ya some birds, cause from the fingers, middle up, dumbness no longer lingers, riddle up, who the greatest, plenty many and I’m this time the latest, best for last, yes this is the test of vast, I cast myself in all the parts, the world is yours, ya heard the chorus! Y’all, the smarts is in my brain, maintain even through a strain, sane, this is my gain.

Shout out to Juvie, I started, departed off as a newbie in this Ha movie, yah truly, yah truly.

I’m on a, I’m on a, I’m on a, I’m on a, I’m on a, I’m on a, fuck it. 

I’m on a paper chase, I got the mic on fire, the face of a G, until the moment I expire, you know what it is, this is his space where he inspire, I handle my biz, and I never ever tire.

Paper Chase (Prod. cat organ)

Lyrics:

Making ya laugh like Charles Chaplin, taking the path of getting yo ass chuckling, hurls bafflin’, how they be so funny, I got these boys and girls flappin’ they arms around, A money, A astonish, he be on ish that strong ish, bitch, I bombs the sound you might expect, and rebuild what he yield wit’ new intellect. He be on his don ish, swish for the king leader, I bring heater, swing meter be a homer, plus I’m not a cheater, no steroids, fuck these tabloids, I’m oh so pure, the frauds just ain’t me, I’m fab and that’s, on a joint, hard to find, like a point guard without a good mind, would bind ya team if ya didn’t have smarts, can’t fulfill the dream otherwise, I roam a good dude, cause I get checked my ‘tude, my hearts respected, really rude to myself with issues, the brother never lies, a past cast I would misuse, my vast fly dance by chance need no tissues, I can pursues whatever, more shoes, that leather seats I want, he’s upfront, he doesnt’ want the liar charm, he doesn’t want the fire arm, he wants what he wants, the real deal, wanna hire calm to ya feeling array? Get set on healing and play? 

Yeah, had to let the beat ride, bitch.

Never too old age fo’ mo’ bold page turning, learning, yearning, earning, of course now we got beards, the herds of follicles on faces, the A Hype chronicles amazes. ‘Staches too, dashes through the nose to the lips, I does have those clips if I want to release this, the peace is, beauty in eye of beholder, truly it a win, I love when we molder of our own lane, I’ve sown this thing down many miles, plenty styles, and I’m no cappin’, my flow rappin’, I’m a gnarly happenin’, just trust in my laugh, like Charlie Chaplin.

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Charles Chaplin And His Mustache (Prod. Yokai)

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Lyrics:

Y’all don’t wanna see me, on my cocky shit, hot as a sauna, you’re a gonna when like Rocky hit, knocked to the floor, then I socked ‘em some more, we can do it on TV, any territory, tour, your request, the best is this, scary story, is I ain’t even right off my meds, my beds in sight, bed being graves, sad seeing waves of my mom and pops, laying ‘em down, aight, but forever displaying my crown, right? I’m the props giver, but where did mine go? Hype the type to make the snobs quiver, they sobs bitter, I’m a lobs that game winner to myself, off the backboard, no slack, scored nine mo’, than my span I ran of being best, one, add it up and that stuff ya get is 10 outta 10, beginners ain’t an acclaim getter, they gotta shelf the crazy talk when they lazy walk, ya may say ya slay but what day do you actually go crazy, chalk it up to bluff, and by the way if some come off, mean, pouter, when ya ain’t accolading, that shit bound to sound so faint on the mic like an echo fading, snuff the fakes out, max cool I be, me and the rest who done spun, noth-ing, we be real deal, no hands plotting plans around wack back like cuffing, can ya feel it? This, thing, bling! I stands, a rotting mans, but I admit this mad shit, I’m fit enough to be tough to see rough is what my mental state is, been foul like Raiders, fuck it, of Lost Ark or Vegas, the cost spark self haters, debaters, naysayers, in the mind, a bind find for A is, all the above, above, above. Show no love, gotta lotta push in me, go shove, my hushin’ demons, say the shit, just spray the shit! Cushion my blows? My foes knows none of that, friends that ends, why they eye me in the first place? Watch ya back, catch a smack talk behind it, rewind and you meant to do better, you in no debt for, favors I did, the worst case is the saviors as kid that you still hold on ‘em, like ya sold on ‘em, will I have told on ‘em, I mean, if I seen unspeakable, hmmm, the cycle spins, it ends when ya then tongue reekable, stinks to hear the psycho grins, my thinks is clear, to me truly but what to you? Morse Code? If ya force load of knowledge upon, they’ll wish ya done, ya just a bore, I must implore, that and that I at no place to stop, face the drop, embrace him space and eat this fucking treat of slop.

Treat Of Slop (Prod. frickerman23)

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Lyrics:

A Hype, wanting me to hop in? Let get it poppin’, I shoot my shot, swish, bitch, I dish it, flaunting, choppin’ up game wit’ the ballers, ploppin’ so lame is the mother fucking sprawlers, saying I reach in like some foulers, I’m teaching yo ass a lesson, stop preaching like ya a massive blessing, then cry when my ass get all ball and ya ass floppin’, this first part is basketball, his worst start? Maybe, after all, hey we ain’t been focusing on hooping anyway, ya see, the next dose is in, scooping plenty cray, into venue, I call it Ice Cream cause I’m a cold mother fucker, no nice dream, my spice seem to be IRL, why? Your spell I put you in of thinking, deeply sinking, my pattern into you, keep me linking with greats, that yearn to spelunk in these fates, we make for ourself and take it up to make it up, no fake it up, just shake it up, dates in the present will be in the future, past legendary, my last beg, send clearly love to yo fam, god damn. Ya mom nurture, birthed you, Earthed you, worthed you. So show her love, one of a kind, do it from the mind, this is part 3, my art be, moving around so free, proving the sound, from family to basketball calamity to song long from casket y’all, to the next chapter, is that part 4? Well, hell or heaven we end it here, friend, jit, dear, whatever I call ya, believe in ya self and stay baller, heart more or less, stress, guess what would stop it? To see ye ass topping, popping off, propping off, sloppy mouth, made sure ya was paying attention. Laying the jewels of the trade, rules that they made, down for ascension, right here in this dimension. I may not be quite clear, but hey, gotta keep trying, I peep dying as just the start of next deep living we giving, so I keep reminding, the finding I may’ve found. But what I do then can change how now it sound. Leave that up for how ya feel? I heave that stuff up ‘cause it real. Does it kill? Psssh, we need more life, I love this shit, like a sure wife, ain’t above this shit, I bleed like you, pure, knife will show the same cut, we all got game, fuck it, strut, dance, walk, run, give ya self a chance, talk, fun, life is what ya make it, The World Is Yours, ya heard the chorus? Keep living it strong, we gon’ make it.

We gon’ make it. Yeah mother fucker, we’re gonna make it. You know what I’m saying? We’re gonna make it! We’re gonna be alright, we’re gonna be alright, we’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it, and, we’ve got the power within our mother fucking self to, do whatever we set our mother fucking mind to, so you know what I’m saying? Just keep doing your mother fucking self. And spread, peace, positivity and love, mother fucker.

Daily Doings (Prod. Revel)

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Lyrics:

Exquisite, I am, wanna take a visit? I is it, my frame I see through is vivid. If I be you, I be livid, cause what ye do is give hate, use love and light instead, above the plight of dead, dying I ain’t be denying, not trying, but why you think we be sinking and crying? Cause of hate, was it fate that we was gonna create, all this shit? Nah, let go vacate, get yo ass on a roll, the stroll of love, light, leadership is needed, I feed the clip of heated, mouth I wanna run off and curse yo ass, pout wit’, and stand a bigger man on this land, my plan a new outlet, a trigger, worse, can end deadly, so I readily, supply my cup wit’ high praises that amazes, we all got talent, from the frail bent about to give up, to those we hail, scent of ‘em we live up. Actually, factually, we is who we make us, a celebrity is just a celebrity, it don’t take this, rocket science to understand, from my pocket, I gots a phone in my hand. And, it can misconstrue on there what bear importance. This con flu, brew, out of dim sort stance. But I know, I’m oh so exquisite, what I do, is oh so next quiz shit. 50 years from now in ya history class they ask about the swiftly cheers amassed from the ass of A Hype Fam baskers, fam, not fanbase, we fam, ya see? Damn, we can chase, whatever we want, yeah, giving up I can’t, I’m living up, my mentality I make reality, exquisite is this buzzin’, I may be puzzlin’, but A, me? He be guzzlin’, champagne from first prizes, I am sane, I just took a damn lane ya be shook to even start to be clamoring, I got the heart to be amped in, the worst guys is to me, the ones who hate from outside the club, dedicate to try to have read ya fate from outside the club, I doubt ya can hide ya snub, from yourself, this is who you playing, I’m saying, exquisite shit that lit as I’m slaying.

Exquisite (Prod. yungfloppa)

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Lyrics:

Can ya picture, a descripture of a man who flips for, rage bait, he age late, no stage straight, many zany lips for the ones who dones tried, to un’s did the sick more or less road he travel toward. The gravel mode I’m in, loften often to my coffin ‘cause I’m below where it been, feel trapped in the dirt, hurt wrapped up my Earth worth, I deal the blow to myself, I shelf help, I delve in revolving the same lame game, the solving start wit’ me, but a part it be accepting, when dismay crept in, this A slept in, now it deepen, foul style lept in, the caught thought be the weapon, impulse may be dim, false, but it trickin’, pickin’ sides on rides I don’t need to take, hear these voices chant, where is my choices, can’t I heed to make the fake crap that, ruin me stop at, right about now, clear the picture like Snapchat, I’m big, might about blow, ignite up out how, Cobain did, no pain slid where death is, breathless, here the structure I should’ve taken, the good I’ve shaken, I didn’t even realize I had, the eyes my Dad had all along was right, check, I just had to tad adjust my view slight, neck, inspect when looking over, correct intellect, shook and never had this chance? I knew, now why spew this sad piss poor mood dude glance, a rude stance? The world ain’t against me, I’m against me, I unfurled the paint, let the elders craft the image, I hurled and faint, bet the small tears swell when fears, laughed, him gauge like it “woe is me.” this tyke shit mentality, lead a grudge, fatality, me, I need to budge, clutch much better posture, I boast poor back as an excuse, to slack and be no use, I could carry that weight, physical, but also I know metaphorically, I’m a bicycle on training wheels, not gaining skills but I been ready, a beta, whore sick being who seeing reign in faking ills, getting pity, I’m bullshitting really, and when I think I great like DeRozan, the chosen hitting middy, his he get paid for, mine ain’t fine, it a charade more or less to think I doing shit great, it just middy! I sink and state my pull, meeting so many connections, I fucking fake to get to, I’m sucking dick to let you, know I wanna collab, do I really hear, all this shit that I spit to ya ear, who nab all this free time, inspections, and be like “gee I’m so lonely”, bitch, enrich ya mind and find the bind just ‘cause ya only, ya own enemy, my zone … fuck it, when I be like this, I don’t even change, believe in strange but some things just need to rearrange, we the hinge to opening our own doors, hope is in, I can’t clone yours but what I do, is see those who chose to be great when they could say they fate, closed theirs, they burst it open, they thirst for first, dope in the chosed careers, so here’s no mo’ pondering, high note, why mope in the beyond I been, avoiding, paranoiding, fuck it, go wondering, I tote my slope oh so down, bitch just switch the frown, I pitch the crown to me so truly, truly, let get up and go!

Yo.

Get Up And Go! (Prod. ithurtstowalk)

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Lyrics:

My clothes got wings the way when he dress he fly, I chose hot things just like heat press, the sky, the limit, don’t be timid, don’t stress the vibe. Be in it, this is a treat, yes we live. Me winning, we spinning, can’t guess the gab? Just trust this is his bliss, describe. What more I shall ‘fess and give. Meaning to, nah fuck it, more or less this thrive. That your overthinking, what a busted job. Y’all sober? Drinking? Fuck it, just mustered fab. Gift of gab when I lift the tab and drift on toward. Leaning through the window, been no worry scurry, swift and floored. We going fast, doing blast in our flowing vast. Mind space, I find peace when we then be cast. As us together, this is not whether it only sunny, climate, cause my rate is never lonely bummy, you the only chummy that done he in the hard way, knock it out the yard way, clocking out, no card may, be the tool, but see we cool and I still get pay, ‘til that day when I perish, until then we flourish. I’m on time, rhyme on prime. Mime on climb the way we say nothing but it would be bluffing, to say we maybe ain’t quite the bomb. We paint wit’ our might a masterpiece every time. Levy dime, the way ya stay a 10 and then some. Masterpiece, ya caster breeze the way ya stay in zen, from cool to school in ... yeah, and I wrote this, for someone else, but I really know, how the dumb fun waltz, on to other people, my brother could be the sequel, have his own, glad this grown, mentality though, is no fatality, yo, on this bro, when he alone, he still in the zone.

He Fly (Prod. @ prxnceallen @ otsmelvin)

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Lyrics:

We’re bossing up, here every day with clevy say we crossing up, our opposition, our power tower over these cowards, devour the sour, how nerds do, go and troll, bro, the scroll in full is never a thing when ya roll, more stories out, fire for hire your props the mission, your territories ‘bout to be involved, see the resolved resolution to stopping this piss poor pollution of those hoes who chose to doze, delusion what an artist is, is this, flows inclusion, with lyrics that on actually hit, hysterics that contractually lit, if you do not got the heat from me, well, I smell a dummy, been heavy clevy since the tense of Teletubby, he’ll be snubby, from the award show, the toured go, cause he too unique, was me the dude you speak of when you say you love artist, bitch I’m the hardest, fuck a niche, fuck a pitch, I ditch the image shit, what ya see is what the fuck ya get, on a whim him rage, then again on a whim him show courage, open up, then again on a whim him stage a hap’ rap, dope in cup of the drink of life, I think the brief answer is this is not a cancer, I got a dancer step the way I switch sides, errr … emotions, the notions I hitch rides to all tides, y’all sides I don’t wanna anger, too much to get set killed, a thrilled danger. Fuck it, do you support LGBTQIA plus, if not this, hot piss, but overall I don’t mean to make mad, what dove my gall to where it hard to take back, what my stance is, the chances of a snake stab, ya closest could get them toasters, let ‘em be the disposers, I fake glad at times for I’ms afraid of sad, I shake shackles on my mind, the bind I tackles, shit hit like a quake, grab on to ya belongings, but I got over that, now we chilling in the saunas, as I heat it up, but as I greet it up the mood switch again, the dawnings of new form, do swarm random, when the tantrum? I don’t know, ain’t you a bitch again? Or is that my perception, he a gonna’s again, for reflection I don’t do not well, shit hit like a double negative, confusing on using, trouble beg I live in the causing drama, but pausing I’m a do, all of this to say, through dismay, his way, through this array, I stay a boss up, toss up the whole thing, my goal, bring smiles to the styles, this is what the fuck A Hype piles.

Boss Up (Outro) (Prod. thursdayy_morning)

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Lyrics:

Morning cook up, got my legs and feet up, simply relaxing, this is how my style is wit’ flexing. Mother fuckers is at the crack of dawning took up, by what the fuck I’m on in, every facet, they begs I get up, wish him I dish them a good day, that’s it, then we really could play, music today, cruising to A, bragging, but style I’ll never be sagging, pile chill swag in, this shit that I be bagging, simply relaxing, to happiness I’m a pimp that be maxed in, getting it, to some extent, from intent, we selfish, all chips in, betting shit on my own skills, I used to be short fused, sport oozed temper, but now my grown skills, keep my tone on chills, that’s for self health bitch, y’all dips in to my breading, just an added flavor, to savor, we all born alone, die alone, heading to the grave or, more life, without a savior, but you, what do, I think about it, new era, few tear a-part the heart, like me, but I swear I’m oh so, nicely, what I share, yo, go twice look at that shit, he really said that? He really did that? I’m freely ahead of that, instead of slack, I’m constantly thinking, compromising nothing, I ain’t bluffing. On print, he sinking his deepest thoughts in, go peep, trust this, his lustings is so attainable, acclaim in full, still will not get the feel set, how real that, is wit’ this, get his head up out the quicksand he sinking in, to flick hand from away to in like dap, that what he wanna do wit’ rap, making friends, fuck taking ends, creating spins, I’ll just say this, innovating wins.

Morning Cook Up (Prod. frickerman23) (Lyrics In Description!) (Instagram: therealahype)

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