Change or a Dollar

Track 1 - The Danger Contradiction EP


For the next few weeks, I will be bringing you a special edition of the Author's Monthly Quarterly, featuring The Danger Contradiction. The Danger Contradiction is a collaborative project between myself, singer/songwriter Alice Danger, and Dialectic, the producer behind all the banging instrumentals and beats.

This track is about a struggling couple, just trying to make it in today's world, and what it really means to provide (All of Miss Danger's lyrics are in blue). Please enjoy, there will be many more like this to come, and the tracks will all be compiled into an EP when it is finished.

To hear more from Alice Danger and Dialectic:

Dialectic

Alice Danger

(Lyrics)
I miss you darling; please don’t you leave too soon.

Cause in the morning, it’s so cold, without you.

I miss you darling. When will I see you again? 

I know you’re working, but if you love me, I need you there.

I’m trying baby, but times are still tough, between the five to five, and the six to twelve, we still don’t have enough.

I’m tired of this struggle, day in and day out.

Been waiting years for some good luck to come, but it seems there’s been a drought.

I know I told you that I’d be around more, but my feet are so sore. Just let me rest for a second, before the alarm goes off and I’m already out the door. I’ll be there for Miranda’s birthday. What? She’s already four? 

I wanted to be there for it, but at least I’m still providing.

Baby please, you know I’m trying; don’t accuse me of lying.

By the time I get home, you’re already sleeping, and since I come in slow and quiet you think I’m creeping from cheating. What?

That couldn’t be farther from the truth, by the way. As if I got the time, and yes, I already know what you’re gonna say.

Just not tonight sweetheart, I don’t have the energy for it.

And if you have to depart, I don’t think that I could fault you for it.

I’m trying darling.

I really am, believe me. I wish I could spend every second here with you.

Cause in the morning, I hate waking up, and leaving you is the very last thing I want to do.

My pretty darling: I promise I’m really trying to change, it just can’t happen right away

Cause I’m still working, and I’m still working. and I just don’t see a way to escape.

We've had this talk so many times; it seems we're cursed with a fundamental, unsuccessful, love that just won't work.

I understand. To be a man you think you have to offer me the things I've never had.

But I don't want money. I just need somebody to hold me close and keep me warm at night.

The reason we're married is that I knew you could carry the family we built, and treat me right. But I've been doing it by myself all of this time; I need your help.

And when I needed you around, then you were nowhere to be found.

Look babe, I know you care. But to be fair, this isn't fair: Explaining to my baby why her daddy's never there.

I must say: I've had it. This unhappy marriage is not part of the life I want to live.

All the love that we gave this, we both want to save it.

But darling, something's got to give.

I’ll miss you darling,

Please don’t leave so soon.

Cause in the morning

It’s so cold, without you

I’ll miss you darling

When will I see you again?

I know you’re working, but if you loved me, then you’d be there.

I came back home, but you were nowhere to be found.

It looked like we were robbed, except for the boxes on the ground.

I guess you finally left; I knew you eventually would.

Still it stings. You know that I’d bring you back, if I could.

I know I can’t, I know that you’re gone; I missed my chance.

I noticed you left the picture of our first wedding dance.

What a reminder of what I thought we would have. I should’ve known that that happiness in that picture wouldn’t last. 

It probably could’ve, I should’ve tried a little harder. Well by the look of things, a lot. I probably would’ve if I were smarter.

I’m just too stubborn, but you knew that about me. That’s why you left the letter right? And on top your apartment key.

I must’ve read that letter at least hundreds of times. I haven’t heard from you since, I hope you’re doing all right. 

When you can, tell my baby that her Daddy loves her. Not much of role model, but I can be a good father. 

I miss you darling; please don’t you leave too soon.

Cause in the morning, it’s so cold, without you.

I miss you darling. When will I see you again? 

I know you’re working, but if you love me, I need you there.

Modern Hip-Hop Girls (feat. The Author)

Track 12 - Volume 1
Made by: Dennisaurus Rex

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the last track for volume one of the Monthly Quarterly, "Living the Struggle". Now that it is complete, all the tracks will be remastered and compiled onto a mixtape. I will be making hardcopies available to purchase, though it will always be available for download, free of charge. This track also marks the first time I've been featured on a song, a song made by my good friend and manager, Dennis Jones. It's all about having a liking for a certain type of chick, even though you'd most likely be better off not messing with them.

Also, I apologize on being so late with this release. I've been collaborating on a special project that will debut very very soon, so stay tuned!

(Lyrics)
Let me tell you first-hand child, this chick could drive you wild.
With the strawberry lips and a side dish of smile. 
Got style, grace, her hair was in her face, and her collegiate aspirations put the lazy into place. 
I'm talking sweet talk, with every word that's spoken. 
Deep subconscious thoughts and petty crushes are awoken.
She cool, smart, the body of a dancer. 
She says she'll keep it mellow, cause her zodiac is cancer. 

I got a thing for modern hippie girls. 

I got a thing for modern hip-hop girls. 

She likes Immortal Technique and MF Doom, yet has a lil’ Wayne poster up in her room.

Wears thick black glasses she doesn’t even need, but when I call her on it she says she needs them to read.

What an unreadable chick, got my mind in a conundrum. Can’t tell if she’s real or not,

D Rex, you know what I mean son.

The kind of attitude that makes you want to hold your tongue; never sure if she’s joking, or if she’s really that dumb. 

I have a thing for this sort of chick, this sort of a kind of bitch, but still so real that even so I never get sick of it.

The kind that makes you feel as if you’re solving a puzzle, but no matter how long you spend on it you end up befuddled.

The only thing bad about it, though I still want to doubt it, is the fact that these girls keep their true emotions so shrouded.

By the time you get a feeling that they’re down anymore, you’ve already been blindsided, smacked in the face with a door. 

I wish I could give em up, but it’s just too hard man.

I got a thing for modern hippie girls, I got a thing for modern hip-hop girls.

Who Was She? (feat. MINMI)

Track 11 - Volume 1
Production (Half Hands-off): Nujabes – Who's Theme (feat. MINMI) / Blackbird Productions (The Author)



This one is a completely made up story, inspired by those moments when I was young, and I gathered my courage to talk to a girl whom I didn't even know. Sometimes I crashed and burned, but other times I ended up with a number (not that it went anywhere past that).

The encounter in the song takes direct inspiration from this one time that I hit it off with a girl I didn't know, but then forgot to ask for her number. She was singing when I approached her, but it wasn't at me, and it was certainly not japanese. I was always reminded of that moment when I listened to this beat by Nujabes however, so I decided to make a story out of it so that I could still use Minmi's voice (the girl singing on it, a Japanese pop star).

Even though it was a brief meeting no longer than 15 minutes, it's something I probably won't ever forget. Either that or I'll end up convincing myself that this song actually happened.

(Lyrics)
Let me set the stage.

It was a warm day in September. One I’ll always remember, under the streetlamp penumbras.

Such a different age; a time when texting wasn’t an option, so if you were crushing on a girl you had to get to talking.

It’s like it was yesterday. I saw her standing by the bus stop, the kind of girl that makes your jaw drop.

Wearing some tight jeans, and a low-cut tank top, big ass headphones, always blaring hip-hop.

See, nowadays it’s easy to find out about a person. What with facebook, twitter, if not those then Google searches.

I’m just saying it’s not like I could get her name and save myself the trouble of spitting game if she has no brain, or if she gives no brain.

I’m not interested in scarecrow status, and I'm certainly no Ichabod Crane.

But I digress, I gotta tell you the rest, cause when I introduced myself, she started singing this:

(MINMI)

耳をすませて (Let's listen, carefully)

黄昏れるまで (Until dusk falls)

隠れたままで、迎えまって (It's concealed itself So, wait for its greeting)

気まぐれんあ風きっかけ (The fickle winds find reason)

めくれておもいで (To turn my memories inside out)

When she finished she smiled, but my tongue was tied up.

Couldn’t think of what to say. Speaking Japanese is tough.

As I felt my ears turning red, she started giggling.

“Sorry,” she said. “That’s just a poem that I love to sing. Especially when I listen to this beat, it’s so chill, one of those that you always keep on repeat,”

I knew what she meant; I had a few like that myself.

We talked for a bit, and soon I was under her spell.

I wish I could say I got her number, but I didn’t think of it. So busy in conversation, yeah, I’m still a little pissed.

Cause when her bus came she hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek, pulled out her Discman, and from it gave me a CD.

When I got home I immediately put it in. As the song came on I smiled, cause it was Nujabes.

As the voice came on, I recognized it as hers; A beautiful reminder of a small moment in this world.

(MINMI)
ツレテって (Take me)

あなた輪どこえ (To where you are)

ときをこえ（Passing through time)

心ほどいて（My heart unravels)

This isn't a Breakup Song

Track 10 - Volume 1
Production: Flow Revere



Ah, relationships. Sometimes they're great, sometimes they're amazing. A lot of the time they're fucking wack.

It's kind of funny that no matter how long a relationship lasts, it's always going to follow the same arc. You meet the person, sparks fly, you get to know them, you get to know them naked, and then you date each other until one party decides that they're no longer interested. This could happen over a three year period, or over a fucking week. It's all the same (except for post-break-up recovery time).

Sometimes, that last part doesn't happen. Some people even make it all the way to the marriage stage! Even then though, there's a slight chance it won't work out. Slight being 50 percent. Maybe 49. Who knows, things might be better now.

Inspired heavily by the beat, I combined different aspects from past relationships and ex-girlfriends and made them into one. It's not a break-up song though.

(Lyrics)
Ugh. That dream again, the one in which we’re still together. Can’t get you off my mind, I thought by now I’d be much better.

It’s kind of funny though, cause every single time that I think back I start to miss the good things we had. Focus on things that I thought I lacked.

I guess I wasn’t good enough. Didn’t give enough attention, or have a good job.

Maybe my temper was too short; I know that sometimes I made things hard.

But then memory intervenes and shows me the things I tend to forget. The times you took me for granted play through my mind like a black and white vignette.

Love makes you blind they say, and what they say isn’t far from the truth. Like rose tinted glasses, you see things better than they are, the opposite of astute.

And look, I’m not even mad; I don’t intend this to be a break-up song. Cause in my mind, I’m much better for it. It’s not really about who was right or wrong.

And just to clarify, this isn’t a breakup song.

It all started with you talking to another dude, you claimed he was just a friend. Though that sign was marquee sized, I ignored it like Biz and tried to contend.

I could tell this dude was feeling you, but feeling myself I didn’t see it as a threat. It wasn’t until it was too late, though I’ll admit it’s not something I regret.

The fact is, you didn’t even know yourself, which is why you were so oblivious. Can’t fault you for not being the girl I thought you would be with that first ignorant kiss. 

So of course, a reason for breaking up pops up, and we go our separate ways.

I say never again, until I get a text months later saying I miss you with a smiley face.

God damn it. Here we go again.

Sure, we can just be friends with benefits. That’ll work out for about two weeks to a month until we’re back in an unofficial relationship.

Like a show with too many plot holes, problems that pop up are always old.

We must’ve jumped the shark a minute ago, yet we still drag it out like we don’t know.  

What a vicious cycle.

And just to clarify, this isn’t a breakup song. 

Now I’m sure a lot of other guys and girls can attest: that while relationships are good, for the most part they just aren’t worth the mess.

The drama that follows is such a pain, it puts stress on your friendships.

Sides are picked and if you share the same ones you might just be left friendless.

And then finally it’s over, no seriously, you say I’m done with that bitch

You really are, until another girl comes along and you start feeling that itch

Just to scratch it you try to date her, you say that this one is different somehow.

You tell your friends all about her, but when they meet her they say, “Uh, she’s funny style.”
You ask what it means, but inside you already know. Once again you decided to mess with a girl that for all intents and purposes might as well be a ho.

It’s not like she’s sleeping around, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t have trust. It just goes to show, I really have to stop dating girls purely based on lust. 

Sins of the Father

Track 9 - Volume 1
Production: Flow Revere



This one is another micro-story, inspired by the beat itself, from Flow Revere's mixtape, "Sell Out". I couldn't stop listening to it; it's one of those songs that you have to play again as soon as it's finished.

It reminded me of when I was younger and hooking up with an ex-girlfriend, and the one time we didn't use any kind of protection. Of course she became pregnant, and the only option we both agreed on was to drop out of school and raise the baby. Fate stepped in two months later, and long story short, I have no child. I always wonder about what would have happened if things were different, and so I turned that "what-if" into a micro-story/lyrics, posted below.

”Look at me,” she said. “In my eyes. Tell me that you love me, please don’t lie.”

He looked away. What could he say? In his mind he didn’t even want to stay. 
But he lied anyways, tried to say that he loved her but, that one day he might not. Though the truth of the matter was that it was a fact. She started to cry. She knew what he felt and was terrified. She was three months pregnant with no guarantee that he’d stay by her side. He said he would, but then again he said he’d do a lot of things. One that stuck out was when he said if he knocked her up he’d get her a ring. 

Of course that never happened, it was the farthest thing from his mind. There he was living life as best as he could and suddenly gets hit on his blindside. Afraid, but putting on a strong face, he wiped a tear from her eye; still not sure of whether or not he would bounce, or even if he’d stop to say goodbye. Maybe he would stay and try, and avoid asking himself why. Every time he thought like that though, the best plan was to leave in the middle of the night. Could he leave her like that? He wasn’t in love but still had love for her. Still, all love accounted for he didn’t want to be a father. 

A few months passed. Now he was pacing the length of a waiting room. Though he stuck it out this long he still didn’t know what he would do. The baby was about to be born, but he couldn’t handle seeing it happen. As a matter of fact, he was about to escape down the stairs right when – he heard his name called, and heard a baby bawl. At that moment he could not leave, he didn’t have the gall. He walked back as if in a trance and when he saw his son, the side that said to stay beat out the side that said to run.

“What a little dude,” he said. “Hard to believe I was once that size.”

His girlfriend laughed. “Yeah,” she said. “Look, he even has your eyes.”

He looked and was mesmerized; though he felt that nagging doubt. He’d try but then he didn’t know what raising a kid was all about. Could he really be a father? he didn’t really have a clue cause his own never bothered. Yet that strengthened his resolve; he’d stay at least until the baby could crawl, stay at least until it wasn’t so small, ignore the part of him that didn’t want to stay at all. It would be more than his dad did, and to him that's all that mattered. 

Though before he was making a living as a dealer, when his son was born he decided he’d live his life a little bit cleaner. He moved into a new apartment, got a legit nine to five, and made sure to change his number to cut off any old ties. Life was changing fast, and he was too. The birth of his child made him grow and changed him in more ways than he knew. Learning to be a father wasn’t as hard as he thought it’d be, he couldn’t believe that his son almost had to call him an absentee. 

Things were going well, he got his shit together. Now he was headed back to his old hood to show how life got better. He stopped by the bodega to get some chips and a quarter-water, made a stop at the barbershop, and gave some change to the park squatters. As he rounded the next block he saw some kids fighting. All of a sudden one pulled out a gun, a shot rang out like lightning. He looked down. He was bleeding pretty bad. He thought of his son.

Boom. Just like that, no more Dad.

The Last One

Track 8 - Volume 1
Production: Blackbird Productions (The Author)


The following track is a micro-story, written as a novel but performed over a beat. This is the first of many, and each one will be accompanied by the lyrics as they were written. This one was inspired by a story I read by user matingslinkys, on Reddit.

“Today you get to pick young’n,” he said with a grin. He was old, about 90, but his excitement made him seem ten. He was talking about the vinyls that he kept in his room: stacked high, categorized, any genre, every volume. He always put one on whenever I came to visit, and though his memory wasn’t the best, when he played a song it became explicit. Every single record was like a chapter in his life. Every single song a paragraph; the nostalgia was rife. I had heard about his first wife, and the one after that. About the first fight he ever won, the first time he produced a track. It fascinated me, and eager to hear more, I picked out a random record. One that I hadn’t seen before. I put it on the turntable and put the needle on, the sound of horns filled the room, the kind that makes you shiver with warmth.

“Wow, this one brings me back,” he said. “It’s one of glory. It’s the reason I fell in love with music. Now let me tell you a story.”

“I was about twelve years old when I first heard that sax. I didn’t know that such a sound could be made. So powerful; but so relaxed. I knew at that moment what I was destined for. Though I didn’t play music it was a feeling I could not ignore. I was lucky too, or maybe music is in my genes, cause when I asked my dad if I could get one I could see him beam. He got me one the next day, beat-up but with soul. I practiced all hours of the day, only stopping when I was told. Even though my sound was a far cry from the Parker’s and the Coltranes, I mean at first I couldn’t even do a vibrato when I sustained. But still I kept at it, eventually made it my career,” He trailed off, had a look in his eyes like he was back there.

I could see his fingers mimicking the solo in the song, and after a few more I had to ask him if something was wrong.

“Nothings wrong young'n, but I have to get some rest. I’ll see you next time.” he said, and not wanting to bother I just left.

The next time I came to visit, he was standing in front of his records. He had a notebook in one hand, filled with numbers and crossed out words. It was the first time I ever saw him as an old man. The energy he once had was gone, but before I could ask about it, he began.

“There’s not enough time,” he said. “I’m too old; I did the math.”

I couldn’t tell what he meant. “What are you talking about?” I asked. He looked at me; eyes dim, as if his inner light was fading.

“The time to listen to all this music,” he said. I could feel his passion abating. “It’s funny because growing up you think you have all this time. You’ll get that record later, listen to that one song down the line,” He tried to smile, but he couldn’t stop the tears, it’s as if he knew when he was going to die, which was only later that year.

When he passed he bequeathed all of his records to me. When I got them I went out and got a record player immediately. It took me years to get through even half of it, but in one I found a note. It said:

“This is the last one I listened to. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Doesn't Afraid (of Anything)

Track 7 - Volume 1
Production (Half Hands-off): Hudson Mohawke - FUSE / Blackbird Productions (The Author)



Too many people are afraid to challenge the status quo. In food it leads to brand new chain restaurants serving the same crap the other ones have been serving for years. Maybe this new one has a “crazy” new salad bar (you can just get romaine – or up to THREE other lettuce choices! What!). In entertainment mediums the same problem exists. It’s the reason why we see countless sequels and reboots in both the film and video game industry, and the reason that the book market flooded with vampire stories after the one about sparkly ones came out.

It’s the same with music, especially hip-hop and rap. The only hip-hop that’s promoted on the radio tends to be the type that pushes the negative stereotypes forward, making people think that hip-hop is all about misogyny, drugs and violence, or even worse, that it isn’t even real music (those people are fucking stupid by the way). Unfortunately it’s a terrible cycle because while it’s not the best music, it's still played on the radio constantly. People listen to it, think they like it (for lack of exposure to other types of hip-hop), and so the label sees this and it justifies their release of similar sounding artists year after year, rapping/singing about the same shit. This in turn leads younger artists down that path, with the belief that it’s what they have to do in order to get famous. It’s wack.

Personally, I don’t give a shit. I’m going to keep doing my thing regardless of what else comes out. I heard it said that I’m a cool guy, I rhythm talk, and doesn’t afraid of anything. That’s god damn right.

(Lyrics)

So high above the game, I see it all in debug mode.

Understand: I grind for skill acquisition, but you can’t cause you need cheat codes.

On a different level, the kind of emcee described as succinct.

I heard ‘em say the Author’s a cool guy, he fights wack flows and doesn’t afraid of anything.

Thought you could bring me down huh? Got confused when I held my stance.

Understand: my drive, my ambition, is immune to attrition. It’s too advanced.

On a different level, with a style so fresh there’s no mistaking.

Heard ‘em say the Author’s a cool guy, he fights wack flows and doesn’t afraid of anything.

And my stance is tall, and I don’t care at all, about the risk or the pits or the falls.

I’m going a hundred miles a minute; it’s impossible to stall.

Sure I look back, but while I’m doing that all I hear in hip-hop is the same old crap:

the same old punch line driven bullshit, with not even a touch of cohesiveness.

I mean damn son, can’t you tell a fucking story?

Weak metaphors, never heard of allegory. Similes as simple as your first grade rhymes,

As bright as one watt, son, elementary punch lines.

Flow is stagnant, and even when it does change; you stick to that for the next couple of tracks. Bring the first flow back, in time for the refrain.

Man, I would never do it like that.

Cause I’m above the game, I see it all in debug mode.

Understand: I grind for skill acquisition, but you can’t cause you need cheat codes.

On a different level, the kind of emcee described as succinct.

I heard ‘em say the Author’s a cool guy, he fights wack flows and doesn’t afraid of anything.

Thought you could bring me down huh? Got confused when I held my stance.

Understand: my drive, my ambition, is immune to attrition. It’s too advanced.

On a different level, with a style so fresh there’s no mistaking.

Heard ‘em say the Author’s a cool guy, he fights wack flows and doesn’t afraid of anything.

 

Here’s a fun exercise.

Ask a so-called emcee what the subject if his new song is. See how long it takes him to explain the concept of greed.

Not saying that’s every rap song, just the ones that end up getting radio play. But unfortunately those songs don’t represent hip-hop, yet are always on display.

And so it goes, with false representation people get the wrong idea. Equate all hip-hop and rap with misogyny, guns, and violence, gangs and drug deals.

It’s kind of like someone drinks a natty ice, and then decides that they hate all beer.

Yes, I’m saying that your style is akin to cold piss. So do us all a favor and get out of here.  

On My List

Track 6 - Volume 1
Production (Hands-off): Nujabes – 624 Part 1



Some people call it a spark; some people call it chemistry. Whatever it is you call it, it’s all the same: you met someone new and now you wonder about what it would be like to have sex with them (or just be with them, but let’s be serious).

Now, everyone knows that feeling, and if the two parties involved are lucky, they will get the answer to the what-if. Unfortunately for most people, life isn’t that easy. Even if two people both acknowledge the “spark”, there could any number of things getting in the way of what I call “spark exploration” (some people call it “hooking up”, but fuck them). One person could be in a committed relationship (regardless of whether or not they’re feeling it), another could be dealing with issues that don’t allow them the time or mental energy.

Sometimes it’s because one of the people is so god damn cocky that they think they can come back to the other when they’re done fucking about, convincing themselves that they just weren’t ready to be in a relationship.

So keeping that last example in mind, let me tell ya’ll a story.

(Lyrics)
You know, I really meant to call. I really did. I just got caught up in life, with work and trivial bullshit.

No, I didn’t lose your number, but what a blunder. I waited too long to hit you up, and now I wonder about hypothetical situations.

Where instead of thinking you’d be around, I knew you’d be sick of waiting.

But being me, I moved on to another one. Convinced myself I wasn’t ready to give what a type like you would really want.

The kind of type that makes you want to do it right. To get all of that stupid shit out of your system cause this one just might be more than the prototype, be more than just a fling.

But it don’t matter cause you’re with another one, but here’s the thing:

You know I’ll be around, cause you’re on my list.

Not saying you’re some prize to be won, but still I kind of want to make you my princess. Yes, you know I’ll be around, cause you’re on my list.

Not saying you’re some prize to be won, but still I kind of want to make you my princess.

So we finally meet back up, but it seems things changed.

Yes, I stopped giving a fuck. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’m getting gamed.

Where as before you’d hit me back almost immediately, now when I hit you up I don’t hear back for at least a week?

And though I swore to myself that I was done playing the game, there’s always a woman that’ll pull you back and make you feel insane; with the eyes, with the body: what a hottie.

Should of had control, but then I can’t deal with girls so haughty.

I should’ve known, I shouldn’t have tried to bury the bone; I shouldn’t have tried to take control, cause now I’m pissed and home alone.

I’m wishing that I could go back in time, and make myself realize that girls like you are pretty rare, a dozen gems for such a dime.

But now I'm grasping at straws. Hoping that you just missed my call, but I'm pretty sure I'm being ignored.

But that’s the way it goes, for a guy such as myself. Good enough to be played with and then put back up on the shelf.

Honey Badger (Don't give a Fuck)

Track 5 - Volume 1
Production (Hands-off*): Mark Ronson & The Dap-kings – “God Put a Smile on Your Face”



What does it mean to be a Honey Badger? It means to just not give a fuck. Now, not giving a fuck does not mean that you don’t care about anything. Quite the contrary in fact. It means that you believe in yourself and your abilities to the point that you could give a fuck less about what other people think of you. Not even, you can’t give one fuck less because there’s none left to give!

If you are happy doing anything, be it wearing an article of clothing, listening to music, watching a movie, playing a random card game no one has ever heard of, then just do it. There are so many people on this earth that won’t do something simply because they think that they will be judged for it (I’m not talking about illegal or morally questionable shit here). The term “guilty pleasure” came about because of this; people know that what they like isn’t up to the societal standard, and so they’re almost embarrassed to mention that they have an interest in it. That attitude is ridiculous.

So be like the honey badger. Stop giving a fuck about what others do and what they think you should do, and live your life in the best way you can. You take those mother fucking snakes and eat them. Honey Badger don’t give a fuck.

*Hands-off means that the original beat or song that was used was hardly touched up or changed in any way, if at all.

(Lyrics)

Let’s go back. Back to those school days, not yet acquainted with the haze.

Kind of awkward, Kind of fat, it was why I couldn’t talk to girls; but I didn’t understand that.

I just chalked it up to the game. Girls go for assholes. Nice guys are lame.

Wasn’t even my fault, I thought. Probably due to the cheap clothes I bought.

I thought, just gotta go with the flow. Thought I didn’t care, but I still gave a fuck though.

So I tried to stay with the trends, everyday uncomfortable in my own skin.

That’s when I first realized. Most think they’re real, but tell themselves lies.

You know those high school politics, trying to be popular instead of finding where you fit.

What a bitch.

That’s how it goes, and that’s how it’s going to go unfortunately. Most people tend to stay fake. You gotta be like a honey badger, and not give a fuck about anything.

Well. I mean, when I say don’t give a fuck, it doesn’t mean be apathetic.

Gotta keep a couple of fucks to give for work, for your fam, for your health, and where you’re headed.

But that’s about it. Don’t let, not even one, person tell you how to think. Or hold you up cause just like rose, they’ll promise you shit and then let you sink.

So, just don’t give a fuck.  

You’ll feel much better and with some luck your life will improve cause you’re living for you, not living for what others think you should do.

Just stop giving a fuck.

Giving out too many like a college slut. Take control of what you can, and for what you can’t, be frank: Tell ‘em you don’t give a damn.

Yo, just don’t give a fuck if you feel like I felt, cause I gave enough.

Can’t please everyone all of the time. So just do you, and with time, you’ll find that if you don’t give a fuck, everyday you’ll feel so free.

Just stay focused on what you love, and yes. You’ll get through life with ease.

Gotta be like a honey badger man, eating snakes and shit. Don’t give a fuck! Unfortunately there’s a few things in the way, preventing people from not giving a fuck. So let’s see:

First things first: Most have it wrong, equating success with the size of your purse.

Taught to be happy cause it could be worse. Man, it can always be. Insert curse.

And from birth we’re taught that money equals happiness. Can’t buy it, but it sure as hell helps kid. Many pursue, but never define it.

And that’s when there’s a huge disconnect. You look around at all the money you’ve spent, all the things that you’ve bought: Got a nice car, nice house, 3.5 kids, a partner who’s hot.

Then you think, is that all there is? Why do I feel so empty?

Try to fill this void with material possessions, and you’re still not happy.

Demon Letter Excerpts

Track 4 - Volume 1
Production by: Blackbird Productions (The Author)



Everyone hears that voice in the back of his or her head. Sometimes it’s a voice of doubt, telling you that you’re not capable of achieving what you have your mind set on. Sometimes it’s a voice telling you that you should ignore your judgment and do something that you know you will regret. If the voice is strong enough to overpower you, then you will follow exactly what it says.

I’ve heard many people refer to this voice as an inner demon, one that will always prey upon you when you’re feeling down, or hold you under the water when you’re already drowning. These demons also tend to feed on those who have problems with addictions, whatever those may be. No matter how much the person knows that the drug is terrible for them, they will continue to do it, relenting to that voice inside telling them that this time will be the last time. The addiction fuels their power, and so those people have to be extra careful not to taken over.

The thing is, everyone uses the power of the demon to get through tough parts of their lives. The trick is learning to use the power without the demon taking over.

(Lyrics)
Man, I thought you were stronger than that. I thought that when you banished me to the darkness, that I would never come back.

I thought that you said that, when you got rid of me that you would never need me again because I was, as I recall, a fallacy.

A logical fallacy, in that you didn’t agree with what I had to say, because every single time I presented facts you just thought that you were better. That you had a different solution. That I was no good for you. Basically mental pollution, right?

Well fuck you. I’m right back in your dome, with these visions of doubt, addiction, and being alone.

You know I seize the moment. Carpe diem as they say. Expect I seize it when you’re beat and broken at the end of the day.

I know it’s getting tough. So why not just quit? You know this making music thing isn’t the best business.

Why not go for something safe that might lead to a career? All your peers are doing it. Isn’t it time you got real?

Isn’t it time you got your act together, stopped with the dreaming?

No matter how much sweat and blood and tears you spill, I wont be leaving.

You’re lucky that all I have to work with is doubt; cause with addiction as my fuel I was straight taking you out.

I see you try to stay strong. But can’t you see, that all you do is prolong.

If it wasn’t for me, you’d have no confidence. Then again I don’t care what you tell the audience.

Cause I know that you know what’s really going on. You’re one mistake away from becoming my pawn.

And just when you think that you have control, that’s when I start the battle for your soul.

Huh.

So I see the doubt’s not enough to bring you down to a level where I can get you stuck. On the stuff you used to depend on. How long has it been since you’ve felt that good? It’s been too long.

And though you refuse to look for an opportunity, when that moment comes, the spotlight will be on me.

And before you even have a chance to say no thanks, I’ll say yes please. Cause drugs are expensive man.

That’s how it started almost every other time; slight release of self-control, you extol my virtues then you’re mine.

All of a sudden you forget what normal is, living day to day in a haze of painless manufactured bliss.

Yes you beat me before, but that was once though. I bet you anything in the world you try again and I’ll smoke you.

What about your soul? Nah, you’re too scared to try. You know no matter hard you struggle I’ll be waiting inside. 

For the People

Track 3 - Volume 1
Production by: Blackbird Productions (Kensho J.)



When you make music solely for the purpose of making money, it's almost like being a musical prostitute. Now don't get me wrong, people have to eat somehow, I get that. Still, I always wonder about the person who spends all day making commercial jingles or ringtones, and if they find any fulfillment in it.

Music is all about making an impact on people, so if someone is using their skills like that, I feel like their creativity would die just a little bit. Then again, I might be completely wrong, who knows.

Regardless, I do it for the people. This one is for everybody. And their mother.

(Lyrics)

So you want to make money, but born with bad luck. You were gifted with the music, but that doesn’t make bucks.

Not if you want to be original anyways, but fuck it, now you want to turn it into something that pays.

So, you prostitute just to make some loot, making ring tones, jingles: music for the suits.

Try anything just to get paid for hitting keys. Used to jam just for fun, but now you jam for a fee.

Now you’re thinking that you’re hot shit, telling people you made this, telling them you did that, charge two grand a track. Work with anyone who pays, even with nothing to say, just to make some money off of false creativity.

It’s tough to understand your plan and where you’re coming from, because for me making music was never so cumbersome. When I make tracks I spit ‘em out, I give ‘em out free. 16 bars? That’s easy for true emcees.

Yeah, I can see what you’re doing there.

Treating it with no feeling like fast food.

I feel it like I’m dealing it man; I’m for the people dude.

It’s kind of sad what you’re doing there. Got no feeling, and a poor attitude.

I feel it like I’m dealing it man; I’m for the people dude.

See to me, paying for music is like paying for sex. It’s something I don’t do, but I mean no disrespect.

I understand that everyone’s gotta make a living, but understand, with music you’ll start to lose the feeling.

The initial rush that made you want to play ‘til you crashed, play ‘til your hands bled, when you weren’t focused on the cash.

When making music was about connecting to the people. Now you’re busy tying to convince them that you’re still real.

But now you stumble and fumble. They liked you more when you were humble.

You try to get that magic back but you just fall.

Struggle to keep it real with million dollar ideals, try for a new appeal, but no. That won’t work at all.

It’s like corrupt politicians who say they changed, don’t matter, people always see them the same.

So I guess for you there’s not much left to do. Try to craft the next pop hit. Sucks to be you.

Yeah, I can see what you’re doing there.

Treating it with no feeling like fast food.

I feel it like I’m dealing it man; I’m for the people dude.

It’s kind of sad what you’re doing there. Got no feeling, and a poor attitude.

I feel it like I’m dealing it man; I’m for the people dude.

Role Model

Track 2 - Volume 1

Production by: Blackbird Productions (Brother Epithet)



"Role Model" is a slightly fictionalized story, about a late night custodian I got to know when I was in Philadelphia. He'd usually be outside one of the school buildings smoking a cigarette, around the time that I would take a walk, one or two in the morning.

Although I didn't speak to him too many times, I did find out all about his kids, and how hard he worked so that they could have a good life. It hit home on a lot of levels, and so thinking back on it inspired the track (As well as the beat, that shit is crazy. Shout-out to the producer, Epithet).

(Lyrics)
He’s 36, About 6’2, single dad, couple of kids, with a couple of bills past due.

But that don’t bother this dude. It’s just the disrespect, and not to mention the fact that he’s breaking his back for this worthless check.

But that’s the everyday, just the same old shit.

Wake up at dawn and pick up the broom for another shift.

It’s not so glamorous, and when his kids are at school talking about what they’re parents do, they don’t even mention it.  

But since his wife passed, he has to work more to provide.

I mean, if he doesn’t then who will man? There’s no end in sight.

Plus, he has no ride. So he has to wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch the bus at 5:05.

Man, that shit’s not right, but it’s what he has to do to give his kids a better shot at life and a different view.

Cause as they get older it only gets harder, To convince them that even though they struggle, he can be a good father.

He wants to be a role model by showing them what not to do, and what not to follow.

No matter what, He’s going to be the role model.

How many kids? He’s got three: Kayla is four, Chris is ten and Miranda is sixteen.

It’s Miranda he worries about the most, cause all her friends at school are rich and have things from Gucci, Louie and Coach.

And though he tries to explain that it’s not about what you have, try convincing a teenage girl of that.

She just sneers, and through her tears tells him that she hates him. She slams the door, he breaths a sigh, and wishes for a vacation. 

Then there’s Chris and Kayla, with nothing but love.

Although he’s young, Chris understands and never really asks for much.

He just wishes that his dad could stay at home. He just wants to play some games, but more than that he feels alone.

Along with Kayla, who dearly misses her mama. Too young to understand death, even so it made her stronger.

The only little girl that will hardly ever cry, which makes her dad sad, cause what she needs he can’t provide. But he’ll always try.

He wants to be a role model by showing them what not to do, and what not to follow.

No matter what, He’s going to be the role model.

Play The Triangle

Track 1 - Volume 1

Production by: Blackbird Productions (The Author)

This track is dedicated to all those people that have the talent to play an instrument, but never go beyond learning a few songs. They usually learn a song or two, and that's it. The problem I have with these people is that they always have to find a way to mention that they play or are involved with music in some way.

The worst is when there's an acoustic guitar or something at a party, and the person takes it from the guitarist playing to show off the intro to "Stairway to Heaven", or some random chords. They follow it up with something like: 

"You know, I'd be way better if I actually practiced, but I never do,"

Yeaaaaaaah, whatever. You know who you are. And you're wack as hell. You should look into playing something else, maybe the triangle. I heard its pretty complicated. 

(Lyrics)

You don’t have any control.

And although you had the passion, it doesn’t really matter if you don’t have the motivation to make it happen

It doesn’t matter when you don’t practice. Nope, it doesn’t matter when you don’t care.

But since you were born with some skill, you think that playing once in a while will let you stay ill.

But when you’re not playing that one lick you learned long ago, it sounds like you’re killing it, like Hitchcock and his crows.

I mean you’re killing it. Sounds like guitar strings are dying.

Like Harrison’s guitar, when you play it, it starts crying.

But unlike his, yours isn’t so gentle, I'm sure if it could speak it’d tell you to look up the word tempo.

Maybe look up rhythm too; it seems to me that you don’t know why musicians do what they do.

Yet you say you’re one of us on the scene. You keep using that word, but I don’t think it means what you think it means.

So please, if you’re not gonna do it, then just stop, cause here there is no try, it’s either do or do not.

You keep on making noise, but noise isn’t music, so maybe I can help you find a proper voice.

Something more subtle, more refined, with a touch more class, something that will really let you shine.

Have you thought about the triangle? I’m just saying man. You should play the triangle.

I'm not saying that it’s easy; in fact it seems hard; you gotta strike the little metal with a tiny metal bar.

It seems so complex; I don’t think I could handle it.

But for someone like you? I think it’s just perfect.

Man, it’s something more subtle, more refined, with a touch more class, something that will really let you shine.

Have you thought about the triangle? I’m just saying man. You should play the triangle.

But on a serious tip, you gotta learn what a craft is.

Again, no matter how much you love it you have to practice.

And when I say practice, I mean live it every single day, in every moment, every thought process, with every statement that you make.

It’s not about showing off. It’s about learning from the mentors and the teachers and the gods.

Cause music is like a beautiful goddess, you’re blessed enough to be touched by her

But yet, you never applaud it?

Do you understand how many people love music, but will never have the aptitude to make it or to do it?

They love it so dearly, with all of their heart. They even tried when they were younger but it was all for naught.

Creativity is fleeting, and only comes to some of us; others that don’t get it just have to watch in the dust.

And that sucks, and then there’s assholes like you, who’d be much better if they practiced, but they don’t, and then they think it’s cool.