Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ayup, artist - Spose. Album song Good Luck With Your Life, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.05.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Preposterously Dank Entertainment
Song language: English
Ayup |
Ayup! |
Spizzy still rap real life |
It’s no wonder that my middle name’s Mike |
Everybody, ayup! |
Became the king of my circumference |
I crossed it off my bucket list |
If you with me, yell it, ayup! |
Let’s see who goes harder |
Oh, I won, you lost like my phone charger |
Yelling ayup! |
You talk, shit’s cute |
I act, I don’t talk, kinda like I hit mute |
I spit it heavy concentration, no constipation when making things |
Heady congregation, my observations on 808s |
Dead in confrontations with competition to say my name |
Every compilation a conversation with state of Maine |
I’ll soon nail it, the dudes comin', my peers sayin' |
The loon wailin', the moose runnin', the deer grazin' |
Got two stomachs, I’m too hungry, don’t fear Satan |
I’m proof of it, you can make it, I’m here, Jacob |
Texts grounded when I write on a flight |
You’re perplexed — what, you don’t expect a fighter to fight? |
I’m blessin' every session, catch 'em with the pipe or the mic |
The incandescent profession, I’m like the light of their life, ayup |
The merch slinger, the people’s rapper, the baby raiser |
The beat creator, the show stealer, the liberator |
The Maine man, the woods dweller, the innovator |
Tomater soup in a world cold as refrigerator |
Rhymes out the ass, time out, you’re wack |
I’m 'bout to snap, a gentleman but never gentle bars |
I got mental scars, I seen some shit, I need to spit |
Siamese the grip, they play my track, then bring it back like rental cars |
Airhorn when I came out my mom |
Cruise for the green since I was twelve like Tom |
Since I opened the rhythm, been jokin' with 'em |
Smoking with 'em, spoken in local colloquialisms, it’s |
Ayup! |
Spizzy still rap real life |
It’s no wonder that my middle name’s Mike |
Everybody, ayup! |
Became the king of my circumference |
I crossed it off my bucket list |
If you with me, yell it, ayup! |
Let’s see who goes harder |
Oh, I won, you lost like my phone charger |
Yelling ayup! |
You talk, shit’s cute |
I act, I don’t talk, kinda like I hit mute |
I get to rock till I sweat thru socks, dog, I’m on my second pair |
I’m from the woods, it’s all good like it was Becky’s hair |
The beat slapped the record player, need its neck repaired |
Some flows I stroke so fast, beat Katie Ledecky there |
I’m taking the rules and restrictions and lighting and burning 'em down, |
earning amounts |
Took what I made up in college and made it my permanent sound, swervin' around |
Fuck anybody who sat and complained, and determined to frown, turn it around |
I didn’t know that my penship could turn into working the sound, |
burning an ounce |
Whoo! |
I’m lurking urgently, fervently |
Till I’m buried in dirt or in gurneys hurried to infirmaries |
Spitting perfectly, verses for all my worker bees |
Mental as sharp as surgeries, body reverse of Hercules |
Peter Sparker picked a pencil, made a classic |
The people’s politician, pockets profit from my practice |
Proper propaganda, never panderin' or plastic |
You puff it, better pass it, sing the hook, I’ll hit it |
Ayup! |
Spizzy still rap real life |
It’s no wonder that my middle name’s Mike |
Everybody, ayup! |
Became the king of my circumference |
I crossed it off my bucket list |
If you with me, yell it, ayup! |
Let’s see who goes harder |
Oh, I won, you lost like my phone charger |
Yelling ayup! |
You talk, shit’s cute |
I act, I don’t talk, kinda like I hit mute |
I’ve been blessed to digest success, I had a taste of it |
To rhyming I’m religious, but religion I’m an atheist |
Thank God my day dream turned day job, I’m gracious |
They calling me, want etymology of my alias |
Peers scuffled, careers muffled, it’s like it’s Vader sayin' |
King of pawns, put my blinker on, you said to stay in lane |
My syllabus of syllables is malleable as baby brain |
Unflappable man, fallible plan, play the game |
P. Dank ranked top to make bank |
Ock, Shane, Cam came to shame lames, we stopped playin' |
Banter full of candor in the winter where it’s simpler |
When it’s icy, we get spicy, we emit hot flames, ayup! |
Spizzy still spill quills |
From dawn to dusk, from peon to Elon Musk |
I’m bold, behold my trajectory until the death of me |
Hard work my secret recipe, right and left of me, yelling |
Ayup! |
Spizzy still rap real life |
It’s no wonder that my middle name’s Mike |
Everybody, ayup! |
Became the king of my circumference |
I crossed it off my bucket list |
If you with me, yell it, ayup! |
Let’s see who goes harder |
Oh, I won, you lost like my phone charger |
Yelling ayup! |
You talk, shit’s cute |
I act, I don’t talk, kinda like I hit mute |