Recovery

Foreva Thuggin

A second take of the track “The Real Flex (Sober)” 9 years clean and still finding my voice. AI-produced beats meet raw human truth about addiction, recovery, and what real strength looks like. No romanticizing, no preaching - just honest bars about the hardest thing I've ever done: learning to live defenseless.
The machines can make the music, but they can't live the story.

The Real Flex(Sober) Version 2 [Explicit]

Legendary Run

A raw, introspective track exploring the psychology of broken promises and cycles of self-destruction. The song confronts both personal addiction and systemic exploitation, asking piercing questions about how we treat our own declarations and the difference between those trapped in cycles versus those who steal from genuine creators.
Moving from vulnerable self-examination through direct confrontation to spiritual awakening, "The Last Time" captures the moment between despair and empowerment. The recurring hook challenges listeners to examine where they place their emotions in a world that seems indifferent to human feelings, while exposing how society medicates pain instead of addressing its roots.
With its haunting production and contemplative flow, the track serves as both personal confession and social commentary, ultimately suggesting that true innovation and spiritual awakening remain "too dangerous" for minds trapped in repetitive patterns of exploitation and counterfeit living.
 Fully Human-authored Lyrics. Sound and vocals AI generated.

The Last Time[Explicit]

This deeply personal addiction recovery narrative unfolds like a modern spiritual confession, moving from the depths of substance-induced dissolution to the clarity of sobriety. The artist opens with philosophical defiance—"absence isn't something you can have"—before descending into visceral imagery of rock bottom: bathroom stall confessions, Dante's circles, and the liminal space between consciousness and oblivion.
The piece captures the disorienting nature of addiction through fragmented time perception and the recurring theme of death and resurrection. "I think I'm already dead" becomes a haunting refrain that shifts into "coming to" and eventually choosing "who I intend to be."
The transformation from destructive fire to creative fuel—"that wildfire finally got a place to keep burning"—leads to the beautiful drought/rainfall metaphor that closes the track. Rather than preaching recovery, the artist questions whether the source of change matters as much as the growth it enables.
Sonically, the jazz-influenced production mirrors the emotional journey—intimate, spacious, and allowing the weight of each revelation to breathe. The live instrumentation grounds the philosophical abstractions in human warmth, making this both an intensely personal confession and universal meditation on transformation, choice, and renewal.

Dangerous Territory[Explicit]

Breathe

Hard R

Burden of Being Chosen

Watered Down

Momma Told Me

Sick world… sick people…
Medicine... When's the last time you felt well? I ain't talking bulldozed, hyped up, numbed out Micro dosing, hocus pocus, manic focus, short-term psychosis I'm talking clear and well.

Medicine is healing art It ain't just feeling good, going up It's growing in, it's knowing peace Living like life is finally the real deal now Medicine is healing art Not just temporary relief Real medicine makes you whole Not just numb to the grief

I hear so many rappers like they all broke their legs All of them use the same crutch in their bars to walk on stage Always talking 'bout popping pills, mixing lean, being rock stars I can make a killer mix, better than your bag of tricks Random number generator? Nah, random drug simulator Anybody taking substances knows your lines ain't got no substance Else you ain't be alive to rhyme, let alone speak sentences Like popped some Ritalin, took a handful rainbow pills Sniffing snow like it's the winter and you tracking a new fur coat While you trip into a K-hole, eat some Lucy, have a Xanax dream Dawg, are you fucking serious? You even know the difference between Benadryl and Benzedrine?

Medicine is healing art It ain't just feeling good, going up It's growing in, it's knowing peace Living like life is finally the real deal now Medicine is healing art Not just temporary relief Real medicine makes you whole Not just numb to the grief

Hold up, hold up, let me try— New age pharmacist, proceed at your own risk Asterisk: not recommended, not even as a fantasy or wish I don't condone, but it's on the table, so we talking chemicals Let's see if it kicks—got the master plan laid out, paid out Keep it moving, mind the gas, this ain't how I'm getting high It's just how I'm getting past the day when nothing meant a fucking thing Shit—which pill had the ecstasy, which one the ketamine? Fuck it. (gulp)

Real life, can't know what it's like if you always drinking But like, it's just Bud Light, ain't that heavy, right? A few tokes, quarter milligram of a benzo Lisdexamphetamine, Ritalin, or street speed when the pharmacy running lean Don't really matter—fell into a K-hole Flicking through dimensions like they channels on the TV Been here for hours or years? Gravity finally found me On a couch, sitting upright, wondering how I got there Good God almighty, how you come back from that ever the same again? Stood up, threw up, still drunk—never again Until I hit the bowl, killed the nausea Think I might just feel good enough to do it all again!

Living daily like a loop, ain't really nothing change Notice how we all go to the same place Say the same things to the same people But too busy, too dazed to care That ain't really getting lifted, it ain't freedom It ain't whole, it ain't your health It's just a substitute where the soul supposed to go

Medicine is healing art It ain't just feeling good, going up It's growing in, it's knowing peace Living like life is finally the real deal now

Medicine[Explicit]

What do it cost? What did we gain? 
What have we lost? You got 15 seconds— Make it hit hard. What you saying...? Already feeling lost, don’t say it again…

Wish you could remember 
What you forgot. 
Shit, a self-evident desire, 
An unavoidable paradox— 
What we most need to know, 
Need to recall, only 
Becomes obvious once it's 
Been lost.
Maybe that’s just learning, 
Not a tragedy or failure,
Just finding the borders 
Of you as a person.
Then why it feel like shame?
Building tolerance for the same mistake.

Like— I can't remember 
Why I'm not supposed to drink 
This liquid courage 
When you dare me to tell you 
Exactly what I think. 
So I poured and I gulped, 
I filled with fire and I spoke:
"I think you are a coward. 
I think every time it gets hard, 
You run away. 
I think you trade real power 
For a feeling  of power, 
Possessed by a spirit
That diminishes and quickly fades.
It ain’t a sane trade,
Interdependence for independence
Dependent on chemicals. 
Ain't no substance without 
A substance running through your brain. 
I think you forgot what you was 
Before you reached the top shelf 
And said 'fuck it'—because 
Where else was there to go? 
Can't outrun yourself, 
Only sedate and erase What you know."

I remember why I don't drink—
 I just looked who I’m talking to: 
Hazy, mind lazy, moving slow, 
Spirits eating at my soul, 
Talking to a mirror, 
Pretend it don't make me feel 
Less alone.

What do it cost? 
What did we gain? 
What have we lost? 
You got 15 seconds— 
Make it hit hard. What you saying...? Already feeling lost.
Yo, here, let’s split a bar…

Damn. How that feel? 
I mean, is this real? 
Like really real? 
Ain't touched a drop in over nine years, 
Summoned in these lines
No hesitation,
Still remember how it feel 
To be living like there ain't nothing here,
No plot— 
Only knowing how to press "go"
'Cause couldn't find 
The button labeled "stop."
Was it ever there? I don’t know.

How you living now? 
I forgot. Just playing— 
I'm living well even in this living hell, 
Found what was missing 
Somewhere where the bottom 
Became rock.
Stopped digging, 
Stopped running, 
Let the dirt bury me, felt its weight, 
Couldn't breathe, became lost— 
Discovered I was a seed when 
I stopped struggling, 
Shattered, sprouting roots, 
A sapling, a single leaf, deep roots,
Developing a taste for truth.

A different kind of freedom when 
You growing up, rather than pretending Hidden treasures could be found to replace What it means to become me.

What do it cost? What did we gain? 
What have we lost? You got 15 seconds— Make it hit hard. What you saying...? Already feeling lost. Always lost…

Lost, lost can be found. 
You already arrived? 
Then you stuck, you're bound.
They want you certain, 
Absolutely fucking sure— 
Plant you in concrete, 
Call it foundation, 
Wonder why nothing 
Ever takes root no more.
But I learned something 
When I was buried alive— 
Seeds don't ask permission 
To break through. 
Don't need certainty, 
Just need some silence, 
Just need some space, 
Just need some faith,
That if they rise the sun will rise
To meet them. To greet them, to feed them.
As it surely does. 
Don’t let them bury you,
You ain’t their sacrificial dove.

Fuck their totalitarianism— 
Ain't efficient, it's dead, 
It's a stalemate, 
Controlled decay
Pure evil infecting their heads.
They selling certainty 
Like it's salvation, 
But salvation's in the question, 
In the crack in the pavement, 
In the conversation 
Trying to find 
Your way back
Or an explanation.
One world ruler,
It's pride, it's arrogance, 
It's the only true sin— 
Not the falling, Not the failing, 
Not the getting lost— 
But refusing to be planted, 
Refusing to be broken, 
Refusing to begin.

Because if you perfect, 
What's there to be forgiven? 
If you certain, 
What's there to question?
If you can't be lost, 
How you ever gonna be found? 
If you can't be buried, 
How you ever gonna sprout?

What it Cost?[Explicit]

Who Needs Enemies

Plain Sight

Dot Cromwell lights up the field with Carry The Torch, produced by Lester London. Blending raw hunger with rally-style intensity, the track is built on hard-hitting verses and a chant-like hook that echoes Cromwell’s signature sports anthem style from 1st & Goal. With lyrics about legacy, grind, and triumph , Carry The Torch feels engineered for arenas, locker rooms, and anyone chasing a win.

Carry The Torch

Still Shinin chopped n screwed

act xiv: twerksongggg (ChopNotSlop)

Take 3

Conscious rap artist bearing witness to systemic horrors with unfiltered bars—AI-produced beats, human truths from the trenches of corruption and control.

I’m Inspirited In Sight: researcher, gemologist, storyteller, and independent hip-hop creator exploring consciousness transformation. 

My lyrics validate what you’re seeing: the horror is real, your exhaustion rational, your rage appropriate. 

You’re not crazy for struggling in a broken system; you’re not alone in spotting the patterns. 

This isn’t quick-fix empowerment—it’s witnessing the machinery of manufactured compliance, dissecting power structures for the sleepless, struggling, and systemically forgotten. 

Validation before action, because clarity starts with knowing your perception is valid.

Process: Observe realities mainstream ignores, craft every word and concept myself, leverage AI for production and rapid independent drops. No gatekeepers, just consistent creation from lived experience and an aware, parent’s perspective fighting for depth amid chaos.

Mission: Hip-hop as consciousness-raising resistance—beats that awaken, narratives that affirm independent voices in a world profiting from sleepwalking. 

Staying present and awake is our superpower.

Influences: MF Doom’s cryptic layers, Lupe Fiasco’s systemic depth, Common’s grounded soul, plus edges from Cal Scruby, V1V1D, B.O.B., 99 Neighbors, Glass Animals, Matt Maeson, Notorious BIG, classic rock, and alternative rock.
Support the witness: 

buymeacoffee.com/anthonyn19c 


#ConsciousRap #WitnessingReality #SystemicValidation #IndependentHipHop #GaslightAntidote #LyricalAwakening #UndergroundTruth

Dangerous Territory[Explicit]

Inspirited In Sight

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