Since99 - Carlos Hyde lyrics
[Since99 - Carlos Hyde lyrics]
Phosphate yuh, ayy, yes sir
Okay, yup, ayy, bitch
Gated community Bourbon, I'm trappin'
You don't own a fitted but
You still be cappin'
I don't look like I'm supposed to be rappin'
I hop in this bitch and I made my own fashion
(Bop, bop) in my own bedroom recording
I never be slackin'
If you wanna feature then get to the stackin'
(Bop, bop)
Hopped out the water I feel like the kraken
Plug him my line so I had to go tappin'
Busting a juug at the Aria
Playing with sticks he would think
That it's Far Cry (Far Cry)
If he want the beef then we
Turn it to Five Guys (Five Guys)
Pouring a deuce into my Gatorade Riptide
(Wow)
Making these plays, feel like I'm Clyde
Run up the pack, Carlos Hyde
You saving that girl, at least you tried
(Tried)
Smoking this purple eighth, now I am fried
Wearing Asics I don't fuck with the Tom's
Bitches fake and they say they reading psalms
But she was at EDC all along
I'm up at the crib posted with my moms
You're turning your rights into some wrongs
I'm up on a flight smoking that strong
High as a kite, no Tommy Chong (Ok)
Three grams in the wood I
Can't fuck with the bong
God damn, i'm really way too good at this
Shit I'm not even gonna lie ayy
Three grams in the wood I
Can't fuck with the bong
Your bitch in my bed, I ripped off her thong
Shout out to K$upreme
I got a glizzy, it came with the beam
Feeling like Trippie
I hit him with the gleam
I just spilled Texas all over my jeans
Shoot first like I'm Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf
Hit the plug one time and I
Got three pounds of the boof
I'm sorry I had to slime your ass at
The Family Fare but I need your loot
Feel like I'm Lil Nas X
I pulled up to the party in some damn boots
Gated community Bourbon, I'm trappin'
You don't own a fitted but
You still be cappin'
I don't look like I'm supposed to be rappin'
I hop in this bitch and I made my own fashion
(Yes sir) in my own bedroom recording
I never be slackin'
If you wanna feature then get to the stackin'
(Blat, blat)
Hopped out the water I feel like the kraken
Plug him my line so I had to go tappin'
Busting a juug at the Aria
Playing with sticks he would think
That it's Far Cry
If he want the beef then we
Turn it to Five Guys (Five Guys)
Pouring a deuce into my Gatorade Riptide
(What?)
Making these plays, feel like I'm Clyde
Run up the pack, Carlos Hyde (Hyde)
You saving that girl, at least you tried
(Tried)
Smoking this purple eighth, now I am fried
Hop out the coupe and I gotta go rit
I might go pull up on 'em with a stick
Hang in that blood but not in the crypt
Pull up on that boy when I hit that wrist
I might go back and get a fuckin' bunny bit'
If he wanna pull up on thirty bitches and dip
I might go back in and get
A whip out the brick yuh, yuh, ayy
Just a little freestyle at the end there to
Show all you motherfuckers what I'm about
I ain't one dimensional
Yuh, oh yeah, yuh, ayy, yuh, bitch
Okay, yup, ayy, bitch
Gated community Bourbon, I'm trappin'
You don't own a fitted but
You still be cappin'
I don't look like I'm supposed to be rappin'
I hop in this bitch and I made my own fashion
(Bop, bop) in my own bedroom recording
I never be slackin'
If you wanna feature then get to the stackin'
(Bop, bop)
Hopped out the water I feel like the kraken
Plug him my line so I had to go tappin'
Busting a juug at the Aria
Playing with sticks he would think
That it's Far Cry (Far Cry)
If he want the beef then we
Turn it to Five Guys (Five Guys)
Pouring a deuce into my Gatorade Riptide
(Wow)
Making these plays, feel like I'm Clyde
Run up the pack, Carlos Hyde
You saving that girl, at least you tried
(Tried)
Smoking this purple eighth, now I am fried
Wearing Asics I don't fuck with the Tom's
Bitches fake and they say they reading psalms
But she was at EDC all along
I'm up at the crib posted with my moms
You're turning your rights into some wrongs
I'm up on a flight smoking that strong
High as a kite, no Tommy Chong (Ok)
Three grams in the wood I
Can't fuck with the bong
God damn, i'm really way too good at this
Shit I'm not even gonna lie ayy
Three grams in the wood I
Can't fuck with the bong
Your bitch in my bed, I ripped off her thong
Shout out to K$upreme
I got a glizzy, it came with the beam
Feeling like Trippie
I hit him with the gleam
I just spilled Texas all over my jeans
Shoot first like I'm Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf
Hit the plug one time and I
Got three pounds of the boof
I'm sorry I had to slime your ass at
The Family Fare but I need your loot
Feel like I'm Lil Nas X
I pulled up to the party in some damn boots
Gated community Bourbon, I'm trappin'
You don't own a fitted but
You still be cappin'
I don't look like I'm supposed to be rappin'
I hop in this bitch and I made my own fashion
(Yes sir) in my own bedroom recording
I never be slackin'
If you wanna feature then get to the stackin'
(Blat, blat)
Hopped out the water I feel like the kraken
Plug him my line so I had to go tappin'
Busting a juug at the Aria
Playing with sticks he would think
That it's Far Cry
If he want the beef then we
Turn it to Five Guys (Five Guys)
Pouring a deuce into my Gatorade Riptide
(What?)
Making these plays, feel like I'm Clyde
Run up the pack, Carlos Hyde (Hyde)
You saving that girl, at least you tried
(Tried)
Smoking this purple eighth, now I am fried
Hop out the coupe and I gotta go rit
I might go pull up on 'em with a stick
Hang in that blood but not in the crypt
Pull up on that boy when I hit that wrist
I might go back and get a fuckin' bunny bit'
If he wanna pull up on thirty bitches and dip
I might go back in and get
A whip out the brick yuh, yuh, ayy
Just a little freestyle at the end there to
Show all you motherfuckers what I'm about
I ain't one dimensional
Yuh, oh yeah, yuh, ayy, yuh, bitch