ART from Reawakening by Graphic Melee

I just wanna make some ill art. The type of sounds you feel in your heart. I'm finishing thoughts and engineering a start. I was watching the big picture, it was peelin' apart revealing life in all it's mixtures while I'm here in dark. When I can figure out the riddle but I can't connect the dots that means there's something in the middle that my thoughts must have forgot. So I'ma run the numbers ,count my stats,
recount these tales, and bounce the tracks, stay swinging for the fence with every ounce I got when I'm at bat.

Cuz I'm an artist to my core. Peace to those came before, and paved the way for me to make the grooves that move you on the floor. There's more in store. You are now witnessing the tip of the iceberg. The antithesis of foolish cooling the rumors that you heard. I don't make beats I compose music. Transforming images to audio for therapeutic usage then boosting the signal so you hear me clearly. Half of the crowd reveres me while the other 50% fears me. Me and my bass. With out it I'm outta place. I'm swinging 808's and five strings. The crate of breaks that I bring is low end theory engineering in its finer state. That's why the sound that I create gains higher priced designer rates. Some call it fate, I say I have no other calling. Constantly producing and you know the engines never stalling, but free falling through a blue sky turned into brain storm. Ideas steadily rain and form an ocean for me to open my creative wave forms.

I'd have the music industry in a choke hold if fate would quit grabbing me yelling yo let its throat go. So, you yelling yolo til you're catching a broke nose and the fragments in your brain make your heart beats flow slow. You so-so emcees first for me to target. Either step it up or depart from this genre as an artist. Cuz I weathered some of the hardest storms that you could ever see and cleverly turned hellish nightmares into my reverie. For me its pull your weight or you won't make the cut. A technique most so called deejays don't seem to know or use enough. So if yo deejay ain't no deejay and just hits that instant replay then they probably ain't a deejay and ill burn 'em like a prepaid. Kicking a scratch technique to do grand master flash proud while my verbal stings like bourbon mixed with mustard gas clouds. I'm a mission to send my music world round, but for now I'm gonna end this song and as DJ Phil and pass out

• Hip Hop
• Hip-Hop
• Hip-Hop/Rap
• Rap
• underground hip hop
• Portland