🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

definitely a good song to listen to as background musick :fire emote:

Singles

aceii4 - system [ike + boost]

#sommar 22' shit took a lil selfie in the gate to TEN with my brand new trap phone #mirrorselfie 

Prod. @bendi_002

vocals by circleain

LYRICS:

***NFC BITCH***

Yeah Linked up with the NFC jus like its football
Mindklone Bendi and me we spend money at the damn mall
I step out you know I damn ball
Posted like a mage up in this bitch jus like I'm John Wall
So much fuckin money in my jeans they boutta damn fall
Feeling like I'm jesus on the water thats where I walk
I'm ridin' by I'm totin' this shit
I'm like the flash yeah I'm in then I'm out of this bitch

Smoking this 
I feel like I'm up and in my dying hour
Yeah that boy just turned rabid 
Had to take him out back like Old Yeller
Cut the stem 
I could take his life just like he was a flower
In my good denim 
they can't get like me oh nahhh
Smoking out the rawwww
Yeah Now I'm in Tenflower high as fuck 
Yeah I'm just with the squaddddd
Trappin' like its Sawwww
Yeah I'm up and in my spot if yo bitch ass wan test me 
You gon lose yo jawwwwww

I get this shit bussin' got that Remington up in my pocket
You should get to running when I'm walkin' inna fuckin' spot bitch
Don't wan hear no mumbling yeah jus talk it if you wanna talk shit
I had to make a touchdown just with Cashface at the fuckin' spot quick
uh had to make a fuckin touchdown
I'm fuckin' smokin' on theez roots with the NFC ritenoww
Get Lechy on yo ass you get randown
Bitch this ain't no charity we don't give no damn handouut
Yaaaaaaaa

Smoking this 
I feel like I'm up and in my dying hour
Yeah that boy just turned rabid 
Had to take him out back like Old Yeller
Cut the stem 
I could take his life just like he was a flower
In my good denim 
they can't get like me oh nahhh
Smoking out the rawwww
Yeah Now I'm in Tenflower high as fuck 
Yeah I'm just with the squaddddd
Trappin' like its Sawwww
Yeah I'm up and in my spot if yo bitch ass wan test me 
You gon lose yo jawwwwww

CIRCLEAIN - DYING HOUR (Prod. Bendi)

muddpop
dogwrld bangers
real shit real shit
Released by:
@jlovellyy
Release date:
29 Oct 2022
Feature: @kishordie
Prod: @methboiswag

bootcut! w/@kishordie prod. @methboiswag

truth! (p2)  w/@roop  prod. infernal + octo

Shotti, Buffalobang & Swoopy - Tummy Ache [Prod. Shotti]

BLISS AMITY & FICTION57 - KEKE PALMER #SKRRRRR

Walk in (roxa+methboiswag)

Lyrics:

Minds Of The Hype.

Ya see, I haven’t been doing so well, to be fucking honest. How about I tell you about it, or maybe, nah, let’s talk about it. I’ll talk about it at least, your response or not is your choice. Damn.

Uh, precarious positions. Minds Of The Hype, I finds up in my pipe, dream that gleam, I seem to be haunted now. Cause I was slacking, does packing in my scheme so wow? Not how ya do it, I blew it, I knew that shit. Taunted out my window, off the smoke like indo. Cough and choke tho’ o’vo’, nothing, I am bluffing. If this isn’t clear, ya hear what the fuck I hear. Precarious Positions, nefarious commissions. Placed on my head I dread, I’ll have bled red dead. That’s the truth, but wait, only in the booth. Or is the sleuth, finding my binding of a hated youth. Leads to this, I pleads the fifth and don’t tell. How I’m piss poor for sure in the mental, I ain’t with well. Just a rental, my brain doesn’t even feel. Like my own, I’m grown to hone myself to jail.

Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, each for our own right to survive through the night. Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, I feel I’m losing grip, choosing to self slip.

Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, each for our own right to survive through the night. Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, I feel I’m losing grip, choosing to self slip.

Alright, time to stop overcomplicating, y’all might be the reason I go stomp on hating. That ain’t mating, well wit’ the shit I gel, lit spit of tales from my fly avails, the season of off the rails. I’ve failed some, I’ve sailed some, I do it by, putting myself out there, shutting down a clown near, my area, telling him he dim and ain’t hysteria, causing, yet bet I’m pausing cause I clearly am. Letting them more than rarely damage my self image. Minds Of The Hype, binds as I type. Self Questioning, digesting when I speak, leave me to reek. I heave up a peak point, still feel a weak joint. I’ve gotta lotta self this, self that. My quota is to note the issues that I self gat. I splat all flat like a door mat, you’re at no tissues, cause my issues done used them up, confusing stuff.

Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, each for our own right to survive through the night. Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, I feel I’m losing grip, choosing to self slip.

Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, each for our own right to survive through the night. Minds Of The Hype, we all gotta fight, I feel I’m losing grip, choosing to self slip.

Lashing out, crashing doubt it crazes me. Amazes me how it be taking and breaking me. Blazing beats with heats, that ain’t my thing no more. Man, shut up, get up, and up the score. Yup I’m all for, sure ways of self expression. But making these is faking G’s of no succession. It’s a battle again, that’ll not just be the pen on pad, but rather tether between seen so sad, in jail, been hail in my forecast. They send mail through it all and reach out to call, but your past love ain’t of concern to me. I learn to see that I just burn what be. Opportunity, I stop the unity. Minds Of The Hype, kinds of the snipe. That self inflict, self sin picked, I need to, get off my phone, jet off from prone triggers that I feed through.

Minds Of The Hype (Prod. Mike Turtle)

Score (Gozer)

Cats And Dogs (prod. ej and irby)

leaving

Lyrics:

(A Hype verse)

I feel like King James, “Maybe It’s Me”, the deal up in this thing is lames playing the grief card, it’s been just a brief hard, hey we can see, for all us life cold and hot, heat leaving teeth charred. Fold or not, what do you got in yo system? Ask who the best, bitch, I is him! I gets in, on the shit’s I be blitzin’, sacking like Myles Garrett, my styles apparent. Back in this bitch again, digging you a ditch or penitentiary to sit in, why was you hittin’, me like I be quittin’, I don’t fit in, but I drippin’, rippin’ this shit forever, not just a blip in the time, sure severing the never been, you can do it, clipping how I’m cut different, razor sharp vision, my mission to blaze a track apart and more than start, yup, I’ve done it, “Maybe It’s Me” though, who flung that ego to the sun glow, thinking it circulate around me, a jerk ya hate who be sounding boast, well to me and Mick I toast, see the pic I post, fab even in drab, I’m ghost.

Maybe It's Me (Feat. King Smoke) (Prod. feardorian)

Lyrics:

(eating sandwiches is said a bunch)

Whether clickin’ wit’ chicken, begging for egg and, etc, sandwiches is bliss filled, I smiled as I taste next one, can’t just bless one, gotta trust that this fun ain’t done, fuck getting fat, I’ll gladly let me pad the belly ‘til he scat in his grave, that I will save for a grim day, but as of here I pass no fear, food is the mood, that clear? Him say, he want a daunting task, ask him for his order, he get a chicken wit’ the egg and more he sure be pickin’. I don’t border going over my money I have to spend, I floor the gas and this will make more than a whistle out my ass, when I poop it out, my group has doubt about this shit I get, I’ll bet my life on this hype I make from eating what they bake, fuck it add cake, but this is fake, like the food on the menu, I’m into artificial products, my heart’ll miss you when I die, fucks given, no? I had a tad of good life, should knife be given after living, autopsy show I’m driven, to death and end of breath, by thy food I glued my mood to dude, blew rude as the notion that you gave as ya try to save my motion from being sick, I trick me into eating it, not even heating shit, I believe in beating it, treating it like me, a world so cold, cold pizza, bold meats I digest, I try, just stick wit’ it now, how ‘bout I spit out my order, are you ready steady, bet he get the life span shorter. Just by sniffing it, miffed and shit, you may be, hey we whiffed a bit, with what? Show us the surplus ya got! I got two loaf of bread to go ‘head and stack it, in between, can we bean size up and make a racket, yup? Brown beans and greens of beans on item? By him it okay, go spray that on the middle, it’ll, help my self and health with stealth, kill me but what a thrill be, it anyway, I eat chicken and egg, lickin’ ya feet I beg, meet it as I peg a lettuce order to the thang, my daughter I can’t make, once this kill me and I will be, out of commission to help bake, division of ...

(there is a hook in between)

(Peter Griffin)

Huge Ass Sandwich (Prod. Mike Turtle)

Lyrics:

Ever since a young boy he had to Chase Young. Put that work in ‘til his face scrunched. Never wince at the pain cause there more to gain. It was here in Maryland where he sure to train. Get it clear? The picture I’m unfolding? About this dude so cold and bold in his craft, 2nd pick of the draft, straight outta THE Ohio State, bravado great. I reckon sick days is what most will take, a boast the ill make is they ill but not sick, toxic manipulating is not what we do, no hating as well, hell we evaporate and dap our mate, God who he follows, Chase Young, this case stung, for hollow peeps, fuck it, heaps of thick dudes, O Line ain’t go fine when he get the stick through. It’s a sack, shit’s so wack, the left tackle is attacking his coach as he says, “please! don’t get stepped on like a roach!” but really it clearly hard to stop, plus a guard he drop. Chase Young, Washington football, slashing in the gridiron, the root of all we bid on. As sport fans, fuck it, Prize Picks, some size chicks up by making the money stuff. Haha, Chase Young, this a bass strung banger in the car, Chase Young put in that bar work, lifting weights, shifting freights, he can carry a various amount of delirious cargo, far o’vo’ what you can, want Froot Loops delivered, cause of Toucan Sam? Damn, he will deliver, the giver of this I’m knowing as I’m flowing like a river, they may quiver and shiver, when they hear about how Commanders went Commando, lost it all, like the god damn Spurs went south, ‘cept you left the glory day way back to stay wack after Joe Gibbs, no dibs on 1st for Joe Burrow, now you trade ya spade so yo, no hurdle to climb when ya silent like a mime not making good noise, you should voice up now that Dan Sydner whiner stuff is gone forever ever long, but Chase in San Fran-Cisco, got the fans dancing like disco. But now a free agent, we patiently, waiting to see where he great in the D, next. This is a flex, with just one text the deal start. I think 10 milli a year, really it clear in my good ol’ silly heart. Yep.

Chase Young Freestyle (Prod. Roxby)

could it be that a new era of A Hype is upon us ... ?

AIRPODS

Lyrics:

Started in this game young. Big hearted, emotions got me lame strung, the notions I was weak, I couldn’t handle that. I had to peak, stop wit’ ya critique, I thought if I vandal at. What others do, hey, I would put on a display, if that bothers you, get out my way, I’m gon’ let it spray. On the credit of my mom, she told me, that I’m the best version of who I god damn am. Be yourself, don’t put on a mask. Well off it goes to the shelf, and never back. Tell them bro’s I’m helping out, no ask. What kinda task I can do, I ran through the slack. Cause I can vouch for me, yeah, off the couch for me, yeah, no mo’ slouch for me, yeah. Big hearted, never departed. Don’t diminish, I gotta Finish What I Started.

Finish What I Started.
Finish What I Started.
Finish What I Started.
Finish What I Started.
Finish What I Started.
Finish What I Started.
Finish What I Started.
Finish What I Started.

Started in this game a teen. Still big hearted, for rapping I’m a flame that bring. His own thing, inspired by Tupac. This a king, awaiting on the new block. Don’t need a mic, just give me my iPad. Record into it, I’m like a boss, why mad? Is your feeling, be real and pure, but don’t hate. Again I learned my lesson, they just want me to be great. I been so burned each session, wanting to instigate. To my friends, I’m sorry for taking the bait. This is ends, to the pouty insecureness. Let’s make amends, get rowdy and go spit wit’ sureness. I’m so cold, bold, wit’ the arted. For my name in this game, I’ve been smarted. Fame can be lame, so instead, I’ve darted. Back to lit spit, time to Finish What I’ve Started.

Finish What I Started (Prod. Mark Jones)

Instagram: therealahype
Twitter: therealahype1

Minds Of The Hype (Prod. Mike Turtle)

A Hype

Recent comments

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honeybambs

Slim!

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