I picked up the microphone in 1983 and never looked BACK so now my FUTURE’s destiny.

A knapsack full of tracks, full of rap stacks . Schoolyard battles, but I had a Battle-ax

I spit through the school years. Linked up with Relay, 

Darien and Dame Dash and Superman (the DJ)

The cycle didn’t break, so we toured and scored

Hit the studio, but AFTER it was different than BEFORE

The label stopped supporting and the friendships start distorting

And ironically my only escape has been recording

I married up my shorty and she gave me 2 shorties

Now I’m "Father emcee"; who overseas would import me

Struggled with Relay and produced throughout our delay

Understood that our fans love our jams: Volume II

We both lost a parent and the strain is apparent

And this brings a new meaning to What’s a Bro to Do?

But life is a blessing and a “Changing path”

If you lose your control then you roll and crash

If you look at only SCIENCE and forget the MATH

It's like BEING RICH WITH LIFE 

but not RICH WITH CASH

It’s a lifelong balance between love and hate

Hurry and wait

Early and late...or out of date

If the balance is OFF , what you FOUND (is) you LOST

Like (lost) virginity = The point of no return is crossed!!


I pick up the mic in 2011. This music blew up and the dust is still settlin’

The beat is so sick that it should take medicine

Got the comp outside the velvet rope, screaming out, "Let us in!!!!"

....When I first got the thirst for a verse. Song Sick needs a nurse

Unrehearsed I can blow the fk up, till the bubble-heads-burst

Till they CENSOR out your whole rhymes, like it was a CURSE!

Song so sick that the Snare's quarantined 

From the Kick Drum bumpin' like the mumps. Nothing's clean (Germs)

The Cymbals got a fever, the Tambourine is eager

To Crash up on the Toms till they red-line the Meter.

Microphone commander is rabid like a panther

They bit up on my Rhymes so they copied like a Sampler

The Mixer and the Synthesizer’s hiding to surprise ya..

They truncated your head, and turned your fitted (cap) into a visor

The Turntable scratch you up and cut you like a razor

The Fazer shot a Lazer that could Fade Ya when we Play Ya

Your Label found it Major that your fans are bored

So we hope you feel better as you reach the sick ward.

The Sick Song  Featuring FLASHBACK 2011

I took a vacation from rap. It’s like brand new now

Brand new sound. Not recycled; Brand new Crown

I always rep New Rochelle, but I’m in a brand new town

Where WOMEN stand men UP , while MEN stare you DOWN,

Where it’s all about the sex, drugs and revenue stacks

It produces hustlers, scholars, Millionaires who get in through raps

I’ve got shorties straight wilin’ off of my freestylin’

So I “caller ID” their bluffs and just keep on redialing

I can’t call what it is, but it’s real off the hook

Where you can collect more #’s then the whole telephone book

Where the trunks have shooties or bodies or hotties

Right next to a sub-woofer that was built for a party

Where the fire-ARMS can be worn on your HIP

The trees inspire these cats to speak: tales from the crypt

The scales start to tip when you weigh around the way

Weight inflates after it leaves this state (from powder to solid)

Runaways turn to carriers, them take the bait

And STILL end up on the buses going state to state

CD burners are our record companies ain’t nothin’ free

MP3’s are the death of the music industry

And the birth of the I.S.O.M. ( Independent State Of Music)

Where we fit on your nooses then hear your excuses

Then raise the roof on the Vert’ (Convertible) Hit the outskirts

This reflects LIFEWORK

This is how the mic work’s

Please show me a video to match what I’ve directed

I’ve been in the cut so long. I let the music get infected

You’ve got to pay dues. Kind of; step out of your shoes

Explore the bigger views the brand new News

Every verse can be a hook in this big book

Volume II: Turn the volume up and take a good look

FLASHBACK and RELAY: we don’t TALK we SPEAK

From your Brain to your Mind let information leak,

So you know in your soul that the flow takes control of our goal to:

KEEP IT REAL SO THE TRUTH BE TOLD

Shortys growing up with these Speakers in their Speaker

It’s as lucrative as dealers cooking (Baking) flower in their beakers

And “soldier boys” pump this on the block on the look out

They clap and whistle when the cops come to chase the crook out

And all you smell is cookout from 5-night ( till the helicopters circle and shine their spotlight)

It looks and sound’s like a SOUND’ show + all the sirens

FIRE-WORKS firing no one is tiring

It’s summertime 365 in WEST Bomb

West Palm Bomber Featuring FLASHBACK 2005

 
Catch Phrases
I’m the center of attention like a pixel 
My rhyme will bang you in the head like a brick will 
And at the end of the day all the things that I say 
Will breakdown what you started to fix yo! 

At the end of the day there’s nightlife 
And Flashback in your speakers make the right hype 
Order drinks; hit the floor; cause you’ve entered the door 
The sun is down, but the clubs got a bright light 

Not for nothing; I be bustin ’ the best flows 
Not for nothing; draped in garments; the best clothes 

Not for nothing; my production gravitates you like a suction 
What you want is the opposite of mass destruction 

With that being said: I’ve been rhyming through the centuries 
The best that I’m hearing right now is rudimentary 

With that being said: I get cold like a stethoscope 
Don’t hold your breath, it smells bad…I thought I’d let ya know.

AND IF YOU TELL ME NOT TO STOP. I WILL.
 
Words spread like germs; when you heard it like the verdict 
The sound is supreme. With the words it’s picture perfect 

But Word! If the words were just read, not heard 
It would still ruffle feathers and be fly like a bird… or a pterodactyl 

...Don’t even try it. We’ll detonate your block 
We won’t even riot 

Don’t even try it. (When I'm ) On Champaign diets 
Your burpin through your verses. You can’t remain quiet (in 3rd person)

Yo ! It’s the dough Yo ! The Flow Yo ! For Sho ’ Yo ! You know though. (YO!) 
Fast paced or slow-mo, opponents are no-shows 
Make-up artists fabricating life need to grow mo! 

That’s what’s up. When it’s up to you 
That’s what’s up. What is a brother really to do? 

Man it is what it is. Watch the profits/prophets fizz 
And that is: The vicious cycle of the music biz… 
And NOBODY BEATS THE BIZZZZZZ 

AND IF YOU TELL ME NOT TO STOP. I WILL. 

Slang be my thang thang . When others would gangbang 
I chose to sling verb-age. Kill with WORDS like Hang-man 

Battles on the mic was my victory that night 
Brothers tried with all their might. They would even OVER-BITE

I lost my record deal that was a slight oversight 
By the way the tables turned the spin on things went over right 

They say I talk too fast , but you’re listening too slow 
I’ve got to stuff it with enough hits to teach courses when I go! 

The rhymes keep on busting. A one-sided discussion 
My accapella verses could cause a concussion 
End of discussion! Your platinum plaque is rustin ’ (…and platinum can’t rust!!!!) 
Your runnin ’ too slow yo ! I thought you was hustlin ’? 

Respect often comes when your confidence is crushin ’ 
Disgusting when discussing. I’ve got Ugly Betty blushin ’ 
She said to “Call me Mommy”, like Joan Crawford!!! 
I cause the type of commotion that they cone-off the block for!!! 

Catch Phrases featuring FLASHBACK 2009

flashbackstyles@yahoo.com 
stacks of tracks for your....acts

The Sick Song Featuring FLASHBACK 2011

THE FLASHBACK SOUND

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