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$HYPKID
The Hypnotize Kid finally gets a memecoin. Uh (uh), uh (uh), uh (c'mon) Ha, sicker than your average Poppa twist cabbage off instinct Niggas don't think shit stink Pink gators, my Detroit players Timbs for my hooligans in Brooklyn (that's right) Dead right, if the head right, Biggie there e'ry night Poppa been smooth since days of Underoos Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who Do somethin' to us (come on), talk go through us (through us) Girls walk to us, wanna do us, screw us Who us? Yeah, Poppa and Puff (hehe) Close like Starsky and Hutch, stick the clutch Dare I squeeze three at your cherry M-3 (take that, take that) Bang every MC easily, busily (take that, haha) Recently, niggas frontin' ain't sayin' nothin' (nothin') So I just speak my piece, keep my piece (come on, now) Cubans with the Jesus piece, with my peeps (thank you, God) Packin', askin', "Who want it?" (who want it?) You got it, nigga, flaunt it That Brooklyn bullshit, we on it