One of my first recorded songs. Early 2000s.

When The Sun Sets ft. Weapon X, Louis Mackey, & Adam Kadmon

Produced by Man Mantis for Haunted Closet Productions.

thinkin' back, yeah I was 
--unsure of the captain--losin' touch and stuck in the past
conclusion sunk in--I'm too--stubborn to jump in a raft
my room was flooded from the rudders to mast
but the water rushin' was the color of the suds from my flask
under attack from my functions and habits--summer of madness, yo
--I doubled back just like the back of a paddleboat
----thought I had control of the vessel--but I was sinkin' low
--til I met you----drinkin' alone in the bedroom
--then you saw potential

compliments only a mother gave
common sense told me I'd wash away

(but) you showed me how to live again--and
there's no ocean deep enough to drown 
the sweetest love we found as friends
your honest words instilled a sense of hope
--fed the soul
and reawoke the urge to build a better boat
and once it's docked upon the port
--we'll walk the shore--and see the site 
where you breathed life into this washed up corpse

And I'll admit 
I think it's true--loose lips could sink ships
but in the motion of this ocean it's spoken in broken english
--(if the) boat goes in we'll just float where this brings us
open a drink up and hope for a wind gust

I think it's true--loose lips could sink ships
but in the motion of this ocean it's spoken in broken english
--(if the) boat goes in we'll just float where this brings us
open a drink up and hope for a wind gust

I think it's true--loose lips could sink ships
but in the motion of this ocean it's spoken in broken english
--(if the) boat goes in we'll just float where this brings us
open a drink up and hope for a wind gust

And if you're another unattainable dream
I'm thankful for the days you spent anchored to me
it's so great to be with you--if we sank in the sea
probably wouldn't notice we're unable to breathe
weightless--at least til our embrace is complete
it'll be ages--and when they excavate the debris
they'll find us--cuddled underneath the scuttled submarines
and won't need the number of meters to know this love was deep
--but what's the sense in contemplating the end
I'm on a wave with a friend and I'm okay with it, man 
no one may ever know our love except the ocean 
let's go with the ebb & flow and revel in the moment

Tide Me Over (prod. by Man Mantis)

Prod. by https://soundcloud.com/finalfocus
Additional vocals provided by https://soundcloud.com/finalfocus

Photograph by Terrill Welch. Terrill Welch is a painter and photographer. To learn more, feel free to browse through her https://creativepotager.wordpress.com site.

Lyrics:

"Stood for what he really loved--left with an Achilles' stump
still he'd run--for miles--just to the see that smile--feelin' some
sense of what his purpose was--nervousness--betrayed him
placed a curse upon his tongue--unable to convey this
so with his last breath--he left a final fatal statement
not to take away the pain--but simply to explain that--it was worth it 
--for her--he gave all that he had--and it was worth it 
--for her--he'd bear the weight and face the wrath

never speak a hurtful word--memories--the perfect person
everything--he'd worked for--burst in--several flames
--regurgitating--excerpts of the reveries she'd heard him say 
never feed a bird of prey--dependancy
prevents the need to spread their wings 
and learn to train--the muscles--that connect them to the sternum's frame
chemistry says they're the same--can't agree to share the blame
torturing themselves without mentioning the other's name
separation--tucked away--from the reach of--love's persuasion
--enough's enough--he's fadin'----and she's--become complacent
--nothing changes--but--the PH and the color gradients
--of the leaves--as she leaves him waitin'--seasons racin' by
no one to celebrate with--or from this hell escapeth
he seldom felt forsaken--by her--vellum paper tiger
knelt and prayed she'd help to save him from the razorwire
unprepared to wave goodbye to his one remaining ray of light 
he'd brave the fire fate conspired--pay the piper to make it right"

Anthocyanin

Anthocyanin (prod. by Final Focus)

Produced by Cryptic One 
Mixed by Charlie Beans 
Lyrics written and performed by NotForgotten 
Artwork by NotForgotten

Verse 1: 

it's hard to break even when the odds are fixed 
since I's a kid--taught to live my dreams 
but it's like breathin' without oxygen 
--need a cpap to help the sleep apnea 
we gag on fake facts--they feed 'em back to us 
battling the establishment--smash the machine to fractured bits 
----my last ditch--got an 'A' for effort 
if only my--tape cassette could say the same 
I'd get some acclaim 
keepin' grubby hands out my lane--I guess I'm McClane 
--rap game's--my Nakotomi Plaza 
--I tip-toe through broken glass 
to rescue my oldest passion 
bet it all against the house in the hopes it'd let me out 
--then I folded--forget me now--I always throw in the towel 

Hook: 

up against all odds 
my attempts to rise 
from the depths of this depression 
have gone sideways 
place respect in the method 
and roll the dice--(like) 
playing roulette with a weapon 
can't hedge your bets on your life 

up against all odds 
my attempts to rise 
from the depths of this depression 
have gone sideways 
place respect in the method 
and roll the dice--(like) 
playing roulette with a weapon 
can't hedge your bets on your life 

Verse 2: 

I got a lot to give--but I gotta get my take 
& can't live----off--experi--ence--on a resume 
it's curious--how us workin' stiffs are gettin' paid 
while executives--are leveragin' for their percentage raised 
if a nine to five--job--can't provide a livin' wage 
this inequity's--the recipe--for societal decay 
it's beyond all reasonable explanation 
like--sensory deprivation's--effect on the mind 
and--memory--of its patients 
so what's the over/under on an overachiever 
who's broke and overly eager to throw a rope for the reaper? 
you can play the hand your dealt----or take a chance--rebel 
create your own luck----pony up----advance yourself 
that's my gambler's tell--infidel--produce stanzas well 
I'm just trying to set a positive image 
but the odds of me winning are beginning to look impossibly slim 
follow me into--this den of sin--let's pocket these ends 

Hook: 

up against all odds 
my attempts to rise 
from the depths of this depression 
have gone sideways 
place respect in the method 
and roll the dice--(like) 
playing roulette with a weapon 
can't hedge your bets on your life 

up against all odds 
my attempts to rise 
from the depths of this depression 
have gone sideways 
place respect in the method 
and roll the dice--(like) 
playing roulette with a weapon 
can't hedge your bets on your life 

Verse 3: 

a heart's the only thing of value--lowest score wins 
play my cards close--to my aortic valve--I'm all in 
--all bets are off--check the pulse--and call again 
the low roller--with no dough, blowin' the vault's lid 
I plan to run it--press--my luck like a panic button 
take fat chances on bad hands--til house advantage 
disrupts it--every breaking point's--connected 
--by a fixed line--of credit 
it's a system--designed to keep you imprisoned by debt 
they'll let it ride--'til you're dead inside 
--then arrive to collect (and) 
death is the ultimate price--still I'm rollin' the dice 
--the cost of living a tumultuous life 
--you can make all of the right moves 
and follow concise rules 
but it's the law of probability--still--that you might lose 
the hardest lesson that I had to learn 
you can pass your turn--or take it 
either way--you crash and burn 
still trying to get that backdraft deferred 

Hook: 

up against all odds 
my attempts to rise 
from the depths of this depression 
have gone sideways 
place respect in the method 
and roll the dice--(like) 
playing roulette with a weapon 
can't hedge your bets on your life 

up against all odds 
my attempts to rise 
from the depths of this depression 
have gone sideways 
place respect in the method 
and roll the dice--(like) 
playing roulette with a weapon 
can't hedge your bets on your life

Against All Odds (prod. by Cryptic One)

Prod. by @anantagonist666.

I've kept my passion stored in bags and boards
since '95--about the time my moms and dad divorced
they passed the torch--dropped it--left me badly scorched
in family courts--and that's the source--ofcourse
X-force--escorted me through ordinary life--and taught me to fight
conformity--in order for me to be this dork on the mic
contort what I write--to keep the rhyme margins tighter
the lines are darkened so they're not hard to decipher
and if they are you've only completed part of the cypher
artist, martyr, and writer--took two bars and started a fire
this sketchbook is a textbook--a direct look at what I am
took a left hook to the eye--now I'm dead--booked at a signin' forever
put these lines together--I'm resurrected through the rhymes and sketches
and knew this sketchbook would get me through to my purpose
cuz every picture's worth sixty-two point five verses--a thousand words

It's the sketchbook of the dead--I've got nothin' left
no disrespect--you know I love my friends
sketchbook of the dead--and once it's read
you'll understand why I want revenge

Compare the scars up my sleeve to the mark that I'll leave when I'm gone
they'll say my life was like an R&B song--gone horribly wrong
I'm an artist so it's partially drawn
from the part of me that's hardly seen and hardly needs to belong
and if you think I wanna leave then you're perceiving it wrong
the pieces never got released and that's the reason I'm gone
still--I scribble pictures for my little sister
hopin' it'll give her just a sliver of my old endeavors
so whenever I'm with her--I wither--but I'm always there
hold me--smear the finish--but show me you care
it's only a tear--compared to this terrible nightmare
wake up--look where I drew--right there
nowadays the space I inhabit is a basement or attic
and this place is animated like it's breaking the habit
outta time and I'm just tryin' to set a positive image
but I'm haunted by the drawings I am not gonna finish

This is the sketchbook of the dead--I've got nothin' left
no disrespect--you know I love my friends
sketchbook of the dead--and once it's read
you'll understand why I want revenge 

Got Vertigo as I Marvelled at the Image of DC
when they search through all my art I hope they give it to Jim Lee
he could've been an M.D. but chose scriptin' and pencilling
it was the best thing to happen in comics--I have to be honest
I practiced everyday--they trashed my assignments
put in eighty hours of work and on the back an A minus
the faculty's biased--I never even asked for the guidance
that's the way it is--take this shit--masquerade it and hide it
do what you can--ripped apart the art I used to defend and drew it again
--cuz improvement is the truest revenge
I honed this craft--it's now boarding but'll never take off
so I'm mappin' out the story in sketches and stray thoughts
remember erase often to correct your mistakes
I left the sketches just in case I didn't get to explain
and you couldn't believe what the hell I drew
cuz artists use lies to tell the truth

It's the sketchbook of the dead--I've got nothin' left
no disrespect--you know I love my friends
sketchbook of the dead--and once it's read
you'll understand why I want revenge

Sketchbook (prod. by AnAntagonist)

Written by NotForgotten
Produced by Louis Mackey
Mixed by Charlie Beans
Artwork by C Money Burns

Lyrics:

I'm so sick of bein' 
walled in--forgettin' how ridiculously long it's been
--since I saw the sun or simply felt it on my skin
this is a self-imposed prison that I'm locked within
--and I built it all--it's my greatest accomplishment
a monument to the shit that I love most
the figures, the posters--but nothin' comes close
to front row tickets to witness it explode
--they say that I use this as an excuse 
to abuse--just to booze and lose my shit in my room
and refuse to consider the bitter truth
that a ruse such as this is too miserable to pursue 
--used to be, I had a great personality
now you can see, reality's taken that person out of me
if I can't be the best--hand me a weapon
--or antidepressants--an ambien
breakfast of champions--does that answer your question (damn)
--groove to the music--in my room for improvement
crossin' prove myself to you--off the top of my to-do list
--my temple of doom is a temporal loop
the prevents me from attempting what I'm tempted to do
this is for me, myself, and my mental health
what I kept and held inside for so long it died
if only I could see through to the other side

I got rhymes for days--that took years to write
as my mind decayed, lyin' awake at night
I paid the price--all the progress I made
was a lot less--than the great loss, stress, and pain
I'm a hot mess--so don't place faith in me
at this rate--my legacy'll be a PlayStation 3
HDTV, couple games, couple great DVD's
trade it all if it'll make me these dreams
envisioned the end--like Sarah Connor--grippin' a fence
shit was intense--picture cataclysmic events
with Stan Winston level special effects
I never settled for less--punish myself
for every slight--next to nothin' 
like every fuckup deserves a Krycek commeupance
and I'd give my right hand for another fightin' chance
but what I'm up against is my extrasensory functions
my need to exist is competing with a reason to live
that has given me a cease and desist
now I see the abyss--starin' back at me and eatin' my flesh
until gradually--it becomes obsession
try to keep it in check cuz I'm not seekin' attention
I wanna beat the depression up outta me with a wrench
so I can see and connect with society and the rest of the world
rest assured--I've been dead to it
now you mention it--could be over in a Nikon flash
so turn the mic on--it's time I got my life on track
if I never get where I'm goin'--then let the record show
the lengths that I've gone to--to exit the buildin'
(I'm ready and willin')

It's Never Sunny Here

It's Never Sunny Here (prod. by Louis Mackey)

Lyrics written and performed by NotForgotten. 
Produced by Bloodmoney Perez for Damn That Noise Music.
Mixed by Charlie Beans.
Artwork by C Money Burns.

UNLESS 

my record gets dropped real soon--see I've 
--been kept--in a locked sealed room 
--perfectin' the rhyme skills--doodles--in the sketchbook 
--prove that I don't rest--just--look 
----tirelessly work--to write a decent verse 
the type to leave a perm--anent--mark 
--so y'all can see my worth 
carved, burned, and etched into the epidermis 
my darkest thoughts that crept up to the surface 
learn to love the internal struggle--it's worth the trouble 
rip out the serpent's tongue before it numbs you 
--hang by a thread on the edge of a pendulum blade 
live every moment knowing--death is a second away 
still the songs take forever to make 
and I gotta set 'em to tape or all this effort's a waste 
----I took the path of most resistance with no assistance 
--dating back to when honing writtens was craft 
--no one listens--but 

I've been telling you-- 
what'll happen--UNLESS 

I move out this house right now--see I've 
--been doomed since a youth stepchild 
bruises provide the rent in this abusive environment 
only juvenile defense is a suicidal attempt 
it's loss of liquid in veins--a simple equation 
call it sick and deranged--I'm sick of this different day same shit 
give it away--like this shit is contagious 
trip for the ages--leavin' this plane of existence 
for a distant vacation--fuck the location 
--or justification--as long as 
I'm safe from this civilization 
agoraphobic--shit I wish this door would open 
but I bolted, boarded it up--and now the walls are closin' 
I walk alone--on this lonely road 
a rolling stone----I wrote myself into a corner 
then I punched a hole 
to a dead-end job--with no recognition 
the weakest links thieve and sink to the best positions 
the hardest worker goes the farthest--is it fact or fiction? 
--still--I sketch and spit--you never listen--but-- 

I've been telling you--what'll happen--UNLESS 

I get with the girl this time-- 
I've made--every attempt and waited on bated breath 
waste away and I wept--til I strained a vein in my head 
we made this dangerous bed--and I'm in it--layin' to rest 
I've been scarred for life and marked for death 
carve a knife into my heart like Elliot Smith 
or help me resist--and kick--this unhealthy addiction 
--tell me this vision--of me and you 
could become--truth in commitment 
it's everything I've worked to assemble 
may not be perfect--but I'm certain 
no one on earth'd treat you as nurturing, gentle 
--I just want to build a life that's better 
children--a wife--together--willing to fight 
whatever comes our way--but it's like 
I'm stuck in stasis-- 
suffocating--as my love estranges 
--is she sending signals or just dead air? 
just in case--stay in my lane--and I'll wait 'til she gets here 
end transmission--with the wish--she hears the message clear

Scharchives

Unless (Bloodmoney Perez Remix)

La Fin Absolue du Monde (prod. by Final Focus)

"I've kept my passion stored in bags and boards"

Contact: notforgottenrap@gmail.com

NotForgotten

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