Waka Flocka Flame – Hype (Flockmix) Lyrics

(Intro)
Flockmix
I tell these ni**as take notes, man
I Can’t Rap Volume 2
Ni**a like, f**k graduating, ni**a selling coke
That’s a f**ked up logic, man
And these hoes, right, f**king for new bags
Stealing swag

(Verse 1)
You lame rappers, views from a real Piru
Married to the game, I do
I’m riding through in that chicken coop
Dem birds in it when I’m sliding through
Can’t finesse a brick like I do
You lil ni**as can’t walk a mile in my footsteps
Pu**y, we don’t wear the same size shoe
Punch him in his face, feed him chicken soup
Surgeries in that institute
Record his ass while I whoop his ass
And put it on my album as the interlude
My circle tighter than an inner tube
Always talking, what you finna do?
I think you lame, hit your pinnacle
Rapper on too many chemicals
Where the f**k is y’all principles?
This Brick Squad, I’m the general
Middle finger grab my genitals
Why the f**k my niece in the news?
Always talking, what Flocka doing?
Always talking, What Waka doing?
Counting money, bi**h I’m thumbing through it
You got a problem, bi**h I’m coming to it
Pulling up with a couple shooters
I could give a f**k about this f**king music
I’ll f**k you up and there’s nothing to it
Whole squad riding like a f**king Buick
I know I’m winning but I f**king lose it
And beat the case cause my lawyer Jewish
Grimy ni**a came from the sewage
Put them hands on you like Lenny Lewis
Really whip these s**ts if you diss me, bi**h
Then it’s a wrap like Christmas gifts
It’s arithmetic, I’ma hit the lick
We gon snatch the bag, then split the chips
Out in Colorado, go and f**k with Spence
VBS is on me, never tuck it in
The haters out, but the love is in
Making major flips like above the rim Flex!
F**king up the dough cause I can’t cook
So I made a million on Facebook
So underrated, feel like Westbrook
I’m running plays, it’s textbook
Coupla rappers solid but the rest shook
They say I can’t rap, so I came back
With dumb punchlines, gave em left hooks
Back from the dead, I’m charged too
Toe tag him, he a John Doe
I feel like young Scooter, no convo
Watch out for snakes, keep the lawn mowed
Why these ni**as thinking that they Pablo?
Cause they watched an episode of Narcos
This is real life, shotta, f**k flows
And you lyrical ni**as
Caught a case now you spiritual, ni**as?
The feds put some fear in you, ni**a?
What they put years on you, ni**a?
Yo I see a tear dropping, ni**a?
Told Chance to teardrop that ni**a
I take the chair, my ni**a
Loyalty real, my ni**a
Yo Waka!

(Outro)
F**k wrong with these ni**as, man?
Just turned 30, man
So how old you think your favorite rapper is, man?
I was listening to ni**as in middle school
Move over, grandaddy
Squad, Flockaveli 2
Gang gang crew!

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