State of Transition

I swear the more and more I listen to hip-hop and try to get a better grasp of the culture, the more I realize my music aint shit. I’ve been stuck on a thought for the last couple days though, so I figured I’d make a song out of it. I’ll probably post it later. (Idk why I’m talking like I got an audience. I got like 2 followers haha..s/o to each and every one of yall though lol)

Kinda excited at the moment. A music engineer let me spit for him and is going to allow me to complete a project under his supervision. Also my homie Chi-Chi played a couple tracks of mine to a local radio station that she interns for, and they like it enough to want to put a song of mine on their website. I don’t know how I feel about having a track of mine that was made on a macbook posted on a professional website, but it’s all I can work with until I can get in a studio. So until then, I’ll just keep recording on my mac. No biggie. It’s interesting that a few people have taken a liking to some of my music though. I’ve been spitting for years, I’ve just never showed anyone until probably a year ago.

S/o to the hip-hop group undergrounduates and my man David Porter…They letting me come through the radio show to freestyle with them for a little bit…… Hopefully, I can impress these guys.

Picture me with the perfect remedy
With answers to all that is asked
No longer blind to what they see,
No longer thinking of the past.

It seems I’m at a loss for words.
Or maybe I rather just not speak.
While left breathing in and out
Inhaling spliffs of the strongest leaf.

But, if I write it, I must speak it.
If I talk it, I must preach it.
‘Cause if you get it when you first see it,
Then it’s really not a secret.

Yet, if I think it, I must face it
If I write it, I can’t erase it.
Such complexities…
I’ve complicated what was once very basic.

But, the point is for you to feel me,
Not at all for you to see me.
Truthfully, I’m not built to be seen 
I was bred for the scenery.

So picture me with a remedy.
Picture me saying what’s really real.
I’d rather bear ink to my truth
Trusting the paper to conceal.

Words that are basic move the masses.
You’re not built to fully grasp it.
‘Cause to see the author’s light…
…Is to peep through my glasses.

Foresights of written words break down to many pieces.
Varied thoughts from many readers preserve all my many secrets.
As you read, you move with your heart in a notion to conceive it.
The difference is when I read it, I really start to see it.

Like crossing a street into wisdom
Looking both ways to find a bottled truth
Hoping to uncap the capped…
…Flourishing upon a fountain of youth

Runny faucets turn to spills
Overflowing with more than he can give her
Lakes are too wide to catch a grasp…
…Just like the ripples of many rivers

The clouds constantly pour out rain.
Yet, his puddles are dried by the sunlight.
He walks coasts admiring the ocean’s voice.
As surfers ride waves from dawn till night.

Beautiful from afar
His eyes witness perfection, though he cannot grab it
While bottles are capped too tightly to open
Making him wonder if he was meant to ever have it

The world cries of treacherous floods 
Ignoring blessings which have came
As he sits, drowning from his tears…
…Praying that someone feels his pain.