Alive Lyrics

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

It's funny how they don't sweat the technique

They don't know who wrote the quote but test me

My flow is hardcore; neglect the obliques, never!

My side hustle strong; won't get weak

So my music is made to make interests piqued

Giving good mythical mornings; no Rhett Link

Cause I'm so unusual told I'm unique

With legends hidden in my temple till sold no free speech

But my freedom to press records...well press record

To leave you less than bored, impress the norm

And gets the extraordinary, very stressed to form

More hits to best my score

Whatever direction I pick and roll with

I'm throwing your guard off like a low kick

And if you're not focused, you'll for sure whiff

And I'll punish til your soul lift

My caliber made the FGC say "Yo, clip that"

No click clack with gats, but twitch chat

Mention Fortnite and get pimp slapped by Slickback

But say the whole thing

Or get kicked in yo chest we ain't playing no games

No shame in it

Your odds against me rocky, fella; no dame in it

How I'm clowning on your posse; insane with it

They tell me snitches don't fly unlike playing Quidditch

But I'm on a killing spree and I ain't finished

Cause with each bar or measure, I'm leaving burrowed treasure

Like everything I bodied is in a sarcophagus

Though it's preposterous that what's expelled from my esophagus

Is the basis of the love from the four corners of the world and that accomplishment

Put me on top like a pyramid scheme

With legions of fans; you ever hear a myriad scream?

I promise that for a week you won't be hearing a thing

So I won't hear your babbling till you get serious streams, now

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

I'm a junkie for syllables, similes

Synchronicity in synergy

With the syntax of a symphony

It's simply soothing even as a soliloquy

Cause in my solitude the servitude

Of my songs tend to center me

My shibboleth, Huzzah, is a celebration of it

Each subject I'm touching is judged with

My with tongue and where to budge it

Since the placement in statements

Change its taken meaning, revealing

My genius or leaving a feeling

Of dumbstruck or punch drunk

Like spiked Koolaid...

You can blame it on the alcohol

Why he's breaking down the wall

Moshing through each pub he crawls

Oh yeah, punchlines that you cherry pick

For your merriment while my train of thought's a locomotive

Wonder where he went

Long as I never run of steam

I'm highly esteemed in the indie game like Gaben from Steam

But repping my Threes for half of my life it's confirmed

Cause I've been Fiyablasta before Usher was letting it burn

And I'm a HE; get the pronoun right

Unless you're talking about the song, I'll slow down aight

Just hit me up I'm checking my DMs

Awaiting your confessions like your girl and your BM

Oh, it's evident I'm the excrement

But it's best if it's said as expletive

Will the rest get it if I suggested it?

I guess the plebs will flip, because I jest and never slip

Investing in stickers that parents spec and skip

Clean spitting until your boy is into oxymorons

Catch me in my B-boy stance; that's just crossing forearms

Silly flows; ridiculous! Millions know arithmetic

But can't equate to what I add to hip hop and can't mimic it

There's no replacement even as an unknown factor

Although they try to compare me to some well known rappers

Logically it'd be childish to limit my tech to others

Cause I write my life experience relating to you then utter

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Hands up (Hands up) hands high (Hands high)

Wave them side to side, if hip hop's alive

Yeah, it's Fiya B and the B is for better than you

I'm shredding your crew, like cheddar not bleu

Cheese louise, yours is imaginary like friends at Foster's

A bunch of impostors, but I rock like lobsters

I'll be 52 and still fiending for new beats to chew

Cause that's just what emcees do

Rapping for days for clapping and praise

After crashing your stage

And at that age, still have them amazed