The Speaker Box

We’re Bringing Lyrics Back: Hopsin’s “Ill Mind Of Hopsin 4”

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Hopsin

Hello URbaners,

What’s Up with me and hiatuses? (Did I even spell that right?, oh snap, I forgot, God created spell check, lol) Forgive me once again.

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Hopsin…………The revival of Hip-Hop? Quite possibly. Marcus Hopson aka Hopsin hails from San Fernando Valley, a neighborhood in Los Angeles, California. I first notice his vids on worldstarhiphop.com, but avoided clicking on them due to the contacts he wore, though he was just seeking attention like every other artist with a crazy gimmick. Being bored one day, looking back on old clips, I decided to take a listen just for the hell of it. My God…….I must have replayed “Ill Mind Of Hopsin 4” 20 times that day. Hopsin’s flow kept my hands on my cheap ass Sony headphones as I went on a listen tangent through his repertoire of music. His use of story telling and openness about his own weaknesses, followed by harsh realities and ultimate devastating lyrical content, makes Hopsin the new kid on the block and is tough as they come. Dont let the eyes fool you. He didn’t get on the cover of this years “XXL’s Freshmen Class” magazine for no reason. How many new rappers do you know have called out Tyler the Creater on that cockroach eating bullshit, mock Lil’ Wayne, Rick Ross, and Drake, and on top of that diss the wife of the late Eazy-E for not promoting his career correctly? How many more can you say produce their whole album? HOP Madness people!! Get on if you ain’t been shitted on. He is worth the BUZZ children, and I am personally putting my stamp of approval on Hopsin. Check the lyrics and vids. Thank me later.

 

Uh Oh

 

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Hopsin’s “Ill Mind of Hopsin”

Check it, I used to be the goofy man you hounded
The Special Ed kid at lunchtime the bitches wouldn’t stand around with
I would jack off so much back at my parents’ house
And now my dick has a permanent imprint of my hand around it
Life was lame, I had to pay money to fuck a whore
I couldn’t pull a damn anorexic bitch in a tug-o-war
But then I made enough money for me to fund a tour
Now the ladies show me the goodies under their wonderbra
I’m going door to door, with foreign swords
Causing more than war slaying rappers, commercial or horrorcore
So hold your head cause I’m a torture yours, leave them open sores
I promise you it’ll be more than hard to ignore the gore
Hip hop’s dead, and I’m the lucky savior
I’m kinda mad and I don’t wanna pile up the anger
All these no-flow, gimmicky ass fired up behaviors
With wack beats and gap teeth like Tyler the Creator
Motherfucker, you not dope
So you tryna get some attention by cussing and eating a fucking cockroach?
And Goblin? You get no props on it
It sucks so much I get blowjobs from it
I been told you niggas, “I’m real! “
If you wack and no one’s confronted you on your bullshit, then I will
Hate on me, but you can’t deny skill
I crush all the momentum that you guys build with my eyes sealed
You faggots got me cussing
And only reason you probably buzzing
Is cause you slave as an Illuminati puppet
Y’all really on one, beat it, you’re gone, done
You think real niggas feeling your shit? C’mon son!
I’m the illest and that’s fo’ shizzle
My flow sizzles, yo boy Hop go hard like some cold nipples
You niggas are making it so simple
My swag makes the ladies wave like fat stomachs with bone ripples
I know you niggas wish you could prevent it
Cause I get buck like my Kool Aid’s got way too much sugar in it
You better run like I’m booger flicking
Homie I’ve been good at rapping, now I’m tryna get gooder with it
So I’m a just go beast, and bring that West coast heat
Cause I’ll be damned if you flex on me
The radio is filled with garbage over techno beats
And all these songs about cash are what we just don’t need
Yo, nobody care about how much money you stack
I murder everything I touch, buddy, move back
Got enough guts to sew trash and bust up your fluke act
And leave your fans saying, “How the fuck does he do that? “
My ranking is vicious, you thinking it isn’t?
Come pay me a visit if you feel that you may be offended
Baby I’m wicked, crazy and sick and with the face of a nimwit
I’ll be calling out names but I ain’t taking attendance
Some bitch was like, “Hop, you got me crying
Cause you said I could call you while you out on tour
Shit and I be trying, I even text you, but you not replying
So when your new shit finally drop, that’s one album I will not be buying
What, You’re too Hollywood? And you don’t even have two minutes?
Ever since you got your buzz, you don’t know how bad you tripping
You went to that ho’s house last night and you said that you didn’t
I seen your pic on Facebook, the skank bitch done tagged you in it”
I got put on with the beasty flow
Now the sluts, they wanna bone when they see me, whoa!
So I must, I take ’em home, let the wee wee grow
Then I bust from different strokes like the TV show
See when I be coming through kicking it raw, niggas like, “Gee, he’s dope”
If there’s anyone throwing dirt at my name then you know he be toast
For all of you rappers that be bringing me drama, homie please be ghost
The only reason I’m being aggressive is cause we need hope
“Hopsin, I fucking love you, cause you supply the best rhymes
Since your flow is kinda strange, you should sign with Tech N9ne
You design erect lines, who am I to just lie?
Every single night I play your music right at bedtime
And usually I’m not into dark dick
I wanna do something freaky enough to win your heart with”
I say, “What you wanna do? ” She say, “It’s simple, Marcus
I wanna blow it before you put it in like a Nintendo cartridge”
Bitch, I’m hotter than a UV ray
Hotter than the thought of Nicki Minaj naked, making her booty shake
Hot enough to pull up to your show and steal your groupie date
Hot enough to melt the ice cream that’s on Gucci’s face
And now you having hot flashes
All the shit that you ever wanted in one MC, Hop has it
Don’t rap if you do not practice
I cockblock wack shit, now get ready for HOP Madness

 

[jwplayer mediaid=”17640″]Hopsin’s “Ill Mind of Hopsin”

[jwplayer mediaid=”17643″]Tech N9ne “Am I A Psycho?” Official Music Video (Feat. B.o. B. and Hopsin)

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H. Sylver
Born and raised on the island streets of New Providence, Bahamas; H. Sylver grew up in a Haitian household that nurtured his love for music and theatrical performances, spoken word poetry, and writing. This passion gained him a spot on Island/Def Jam's Street Team, where he became an ambassador for hip hop, promoting artists like Jay-Z, Kanye West, Jeezy, Nas, Rick Ross, and many more. He has great insight and analysis of the current music scene, providing written reports on trending news, and original think pieces. He currently resides in Baltimore Maryland with his family, and is currently writing his first novel.

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