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h.y.p.e. - bknitts lyrics

hail youth praise elan
the thought that got me all hype, the drop feel like the a-bomb
drop it like its napalm, tell em all to stay calm
never stopped my grind and now they g-ssin me like radon

so if you’re talking sh-t- i don’t see you through my raybans
i’m genuine and down to earth, the f-ck you got to hate on?
they f-ck you tryna play on? you must not wanna wait long
steady packin weight on every single time i make songs

flame on. you know i got them fantastic four
drive and strength, flow and bars steady jam-packin morgues
that’s four more than any of these backpackin bores
steady fast-trackin forth with every back crackin chord

take a breath and look around at every m-ss grabbin wh0r-
all you see is skinny jeans and f-ckin snap-backs galore
all you hear is watered down bull cr-p, matador
i’m about to drop the hammer like a slap-happy thor

brad’s at the door steady pushin for the cashflow
sellin cheap subscriptions of my foot up in your -ssh0l-
what more could you ask for? i spit crack, i’m that dope
bars are guns and ammo, thats a motherf-cking fact, bro

i’m just tryna find some truth in all the madness
like why the h-ll its cool to be all stupid, young and cl-ssless
my view seems so imagined i hope you can understand it
and when it’s all said and done i hope you knew me for my p-ssion

———————-

they want me to drop heavy rhymes. they expect better every time
who are they to expect it? nah. who am i to reject it
this curse is ours for the bearin. the good die young and the evil inherit
this world is ours for the taking, no way to deny it
it takes a true soul to make it, and an empty heart to buy it
the truth exists, but i need to find myself first
time is irrelevant, i’m just tryna live forever

———————–

f-ck that i’mma go in, hit em with the flow and put a motherf-cker through the motions
spit a little venom in a minute but i bet i’m never really gonna get it all goin
rippin it open, a lyrical poet, the drivel so potent
grippin a mic can’t n0body control him this time is a-tickin i’m tickin explodin, uh

son of god, son of sam. sold his soul, 100 grand
dollars unmarked, rubberband. what part don’t you understand?
you’re slaving for another man. all victim to some f-ckin plan
to prey upon the weak, the meek inherit earth and run the land

thunder slams through valleys, half these people get they pray on
the other half just prey on life, living young like c’est la-
vie. our time is comin it won’t matter if you hang on
for now we’re alive, livin. hail youth praise elan

hail youth praise elan

- bknitts lyrics

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