Genres: Hip-hop, Rap
Joined: 11 Jun, 2021
Country: United States
Charges for services: No
I'm a rapper from the United States who's just begun posting songs to soundcloud. I grew up listening to classic rock, so I was late in getting into rap and hip-hop, and I really want to make up for lost time. While I do want to one day make money from doing this stuff, right now I'm just focused on pursuing it as a passion and a hobby, and hoping to improve my confidence on the microphone.
Dreams and ambitions:
My dream is to one day be able to make a living from music. I'm currently attending the Berklee School of Music online in order to improve my production and songwriting ability, as well as my general musical aptitude. I'm ambitious in that I want to be a successful rapper. My definition of success would be being able to have a comfortable living as a rapper. Anything else that comes from this passion of mine is just the cherry on top of the sundae.
He’s a poet and he knows it/ hope to keep his composure before he blows it/ out of the water, he’s a martyr but can’t show it/ so he grabs his cock, rocks fur can’t stand faux shit./ kid’s got problems in volume, he was a pill popper/ stopped, but keeps his thoughts inside a steel coffer,/ locked. she threw away the key, believed to be the sweet talker/ who gave him head as a final peace offer./ but she’s a stalker, he sees her in his restless sleep/ telling him his past, but like it was a prophecy./ now she’s bowing down like he’s a king, subconsciously/ she gonna wanna ride his dick, constantly./ but she gotta check the way she disrespect the man/ or else protect herself from the back of his hand/ random tantrums thrown cause he’s in high demand/ he ain’t got time to put her in his plans.// penning them mentions of venom slowly spreading/ dick so big that he could only fit the head in,/ tits slap him in the face, he’s died and went to heaven/ that bitch he don’t fuck with no more won’t get mentioned./ keep ‘em guessing, locked and loaded, a lethal weapon/ got god on his knees, praying and repenting/ the devils down in hell, swelled head sweating/ as gross as when the three of ‘em overdosed on mescaline./ picture he paints is vivid, isn’t it?/ leaves whores hoarse and sore like a livid prison bitch./ ain’t got heart to get stuck in the revision ditch,/ king of the hill, a few mil is what his vision is./ exquisite precision, the dude’s truth is stranger than fiction/ spitting wit with nothing short of deranged diction/ gets his ex and main together cause he likes the friction/ that and he likes seeing his bitch having a conniption.//