This is a remix of G-Eazy's hit Me Myself and I. It has a different style in many ways from the original and I'm pretty glad with the final result. This is my first real single that I'm putting out, but more music is on the way in the near future. Share it if you like it!

Lyrics:
(Oh, it’s just me, myself and I
Solo ride until I die
Cause I, got me for life
Oh, I don’t need a hand to hold, 
Even when the night is cold,
I got that fire in my soul)

Speakin’ of fire, I've been the one they admire
I've been the pariah, I've been the messiah,
There’s buzz behind my noise like a Fender’s metal wire
And I’m preaching to the choir when I’m rappin’ from my spire,
I aspire to inspire, late night flippin’ all the tires,
Flip and sell my vision, got the world as a buyer,
Got the resume and GPA but that won’t make ‘em hire
Yeah the truth is shitty, but I shit you not,
I admit I only need a beat, and a bit of pot,
So I can kick back, puff it and live,
Like a Kit Kat, I’m bending til I snap like a twig
I’ve got too much drive for a stalled existence
So I rev my engines and these pistons take me a distance, 
Cuz they fuck with this, I rap so nice when I’m pissed
Future’s a misty abyss, but it’s heating up with raps like this

(Oh, it’s just me, myself and I
Solo ride until I die
Cause I, got me for life
Oh I don’t need a hand to hold,
Even when the night is cold,
I got that fire in my soul.
I don’t need anything to get me through the night,
Except the beat that’s in my heart
And it’s keeping me alive
I don’t need anything to make me satisfied 
Cause the music fills me good and it gets me every time)

Every time I’m writing out the lines,
It’s divine, God telling me to stop riding the pine,
And start to shine, leave the fake snakes in the grime,
As I grind with my homies, myself and I 
I’m the Jebediah of the rap game,
Fusing old style Beatles with a little bit of Wayne,
Cole, Kendrick and Chance my music kills the pain
Emotions running freely through my verses and refrains,
The majority of contexts, don’t need a tek to get respect,
Gettin neck from droppin specks of intellect just to vent
So I’m on the rise like suicides on campuses,
When they find out they ain’t in the system’s plans, it’s
Brutal to admit, but my rapping’s the shit 
Biting my tongue would leave the world void of hits,
I’m the prince, I’m just looking for a princess,
I’m a player fucking up the game, but don’t call it incest. 
I’m no longer hitless. 

Me Myself And I Remix ft. G-Eazy

This is my second single, and I had to call in my boy Sense to make it a banger. We hope you enjoy!

Roll The Dice ft. Sense

This is a single off my upcoming mixtape, The Workshop. My rapping is a fun work in progress, but I feel like this track far surpasses the two songs that I had released. I really hope you enjoy; let me know what you think in the comments section.

Lyrics:
It went Drizzy, then Dicky, now the kid who spit witty
Stress got him smoking sticky icky and the middies,
Fantasize about bikinis, chance of blowing’s itty bitty
If he does, he’ll see the pink and say hello kitty.
Really, took him years to accept that,
Can’t lie in rap, fake problems like a step-dad,
Can’t rhyme without making critics wanna step back
Really only takes the beat and then he’s gonna wreck that
Never generic, says fire apprentice, 
Spit some cadence, make occasions fairly momentous,
Momentum is quite the funny thing,
Gotta blow up before the day you choose what you sing,
Only drop the bangers and brag about the bling,
Or else your fans remain the same amount that you bring
So the same outlet I’m using as expression
Is the same one doling out repetitive suggestions
Suppression, I thought my mind was a blessing
But they won’t listen if I’m only venting aggression,
Cathartic as an artist, why hide the depression,
Do they know I need the music so my mind can be resting? 
This shit is such a paradox, 
They’re declaring stocks can’t rise if I care to talk
How the world is Uncle Ruckus from the boondocks,
NSA can’t touch this, blast the boombox
I moonwalk over beats on repeat,
Fantasize about the glee that I’ll feel if I see
A comma or two or three on the views for me,
Sitting front and center seat at the local meet and greet,
Believe me, selling out’s temptation,
Mumbling lies makes overnight sensations,
I got chicks in Atlanta, heating up incubation,
Variables don’t add up, unbalanced equation
X=2x, ex equals nada,
Nation of tex-mex hexed by the Prada
Everything affects checks, national motto
Porn really wrecks sex, yet you really gotta
Cuz sex sells, escape from the hells, 
Gotta fuck Sally, lately she been selling sea shells,
By the seashore, people say they wanna see more,
Fill their lungs with that shit, feel better than before
A metaphor that we all indoctrinated,
Told what to think by communities gated,
Record deals for lying people, artists all baited
To dumb down our efforts so our shit is resonated
Fuck, another song without a hook,
They’ll probably judge the cover and say they read the book,
   
Claim they’re understanding that I got an outlook,
Who’s sittin’ in the kitchen, with the most improved cook?
Only time will tell if my rhymes will gel widely
I ain’t sickle cell, different problems up inside me,
PC bitches crying, oh my b,
I don’t let other people tell me what my own eyes see
Cuz ISIS won’t shout out “trigger warning”
Or warn you in advance like Al Gore and global warming,
Or disappear like bees, remember when they was storming?
Kid’s working so hard, Trump’s tryna deport him.
You sort him, as another white dreamer,
In a nation of the isolated schemer,
Black X6 look like a Panda or another fucking beamer,
I’m real with my bars, my car’s a bit cheaper.
But deeper I dig, don’t care if anybody digs,
In my head I know this whole competition is rigged,
I’m used to having family connections for the gigs,
To see a bunch of zeroes, it’s a science, sig fig.
But this kid’s been a bit different,
A misfit, high school nobody kissed him,
Now he strives to vibe and get smashin’ from listens,
A Jew getting attention without bashing the Christians.
Wrestle expectations ‘til they’re sittin’ in submission,
Try to rock the world before I leave ‘em like I’m Britain,
Mama always told me try my hardest, never quittin’,
‘Til I’m sittin’ with my people, no one questionin’ who’s winnin’
It’s a given that I’m driven, making kings look like they’re children 
I was sippin’ on the rhythm, now I’m gunning for a ribbon,
First I felt the water, I can’t resist dippin’,
Cuz the hobby turned to habit, now I’m at it and I’m livin’.

The Workshop

Pound Cake Remix

Just a few Framingham fellas chasin' rainbows.

Mixed and mastered by Monty at Paragon Mixing.
https://soundcloud.com/brandon-s-johnson | https://soundcloud.com/privacy-records | https://soundcloud.com/sense_raps

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