Pt 2 of my "Just Playin" flip. Just some things i'm passionate about. Listen to Pt. 1 here!
https://soundcloud.com/gomikeg/mike-g-guess-who-not-playing-at-all?in=gomikeg/sets/verses-ii

Guess Who Pt. II

Guess Who Pt. 2 (Ain't Playin At All)

The Patience

ROY G. BIV

[Intro]
Yo, mic check, one-two, let the rhythm ignite,
City lights glow, we vibin’ tonight.
Kick back, feel the beat, let the soul take flight,
This that raw sound, bringin’ truth to the mic.  

[Verse 1]
[Flow: Steady, pocket groove]
Pen’s a grenade, I’m dodgin’ the fakes,
Truth in my veins, no room for the snakes.
Concrete jungle, where dreams get shaped,
Laced up my kicks, no time for the brakes.
I paint with the bars, like Basquiat’s art,
Every stroke from the soul, every rhyme from the heart.
Old heads nod, new heads spark,
Bridgin’ the gap, I’m light in the dark.  

[Chorus]
We ride the beat, let the rhythm unfold,
Stories from the block, worth more than gold.
Hands in the air, let the vibe stay true,
This that sound for the me and the you.  

[Verse 2]
[Flow: Choppy, syncopated]
Ink’s my ammo, I’m firin’ at will,
Climbin’ these dreams like I’m scalin’ a hill.
Crowd’s in a frenzy, they feelin’ the thrill,
Roots run deep, got that grit in my quill.
I’m dodgin’ the traps, sidesteppin’ the noise,
Real recognize real, no room for the ploys.
From cassette tapes to streams on ya phone,
Same rebel spirit, still carvin’ my zone.  

[Break]
[DJ scratches, vocal sample: “Yo, keep it raw!”]
Hold up—let the kick drum breathe,
Snare clap back, make the whole block seethe.
Spin that wax, let the needle repeat,
This that heat for the heads in the street.  

[Verse 3]
[Flow: Rapid, relentless]
I’m spittin’ like a dragon, flames on the page,
Cage can’t hold me, I’m breakin’ the gauge,
Stage is my canvas, I’m settin’ the blaze,
Haze of the hustle, I’m cuttin’ through maze.
No ghost in the pen, I’m the architect,
Buildin’ my legacy, brick by respect.
Kids in the cypher, they catchin’ the flex,
Passin’ the torch, yo, who’s spittin’ next?  

[Interlude]
[Sampled jazz horn, mellow keys]
Ayo, take a second, let the vibe sink in,
Feel the pulse of the city, where the fight begins.
From the stoops to the rooftops, we hold it down,
This that sound that forever rebounds.  

[Verse 4]
[Flow: Smooth, reflective]
I’m penning my truth while the skyline glows,
Heart full of hunger, where ambition flows.
The struggle’s my muse, every scar that shows,
Turn pain into bars, that’s the life I chose.
Got the wisdom of OGs, the fire of youth,
Blendin’ both worlds, I’m deliverin’ truth.
My mic’s a time machine, past to the now,
Every rhyme’s a blueprint, I’m showin’ you how.  

[Chorus]
We ride the beat, let the rhythm unfold,
Stories from the block, worth more than gold.
Hands in the air, let the vibe stay true,
This that sound for the me and the you.  

[Verse 5]
[Flow: Explosive, double-time]
I’m the spark in the cipher, the voice in the fray,
Carvin’ my name, let the doubters decay.
No chains on my mind, I’m as free as the wind,
Every bar’s a revolt, every verse is a hymn.
From the crates to the stage, I’m rewritin’ the code,
This that sound that’ll lighten the load.
Young kings, young queens, let ya spirit ascend,
This the anthem for the start and the end.  

[Outro]
Yo, we don’t stop, we just pass the flame,
From the roots to the future, it’s all the same.
Mic in my grip, let the legacy reign,
Till the speakers go silent, I’m spittin’ my pain.


We Ride The Beat

omnimadeit - MARY JAYSON (prod. kanserrr

RHODA

THE$UN FT. $ANE TAY & VI$AGE BLÉU

The legend goes like this:

One night, after a long studio session, you’re on the last train back home—half asleep, headphones dead, phone at 1%. The city feels weirdly empty. As the train pulls into a random station, you notice an old, beat-up red mailbox on the platform. No Canada Post logo, just three words spray-painted on the side:

“SEND WHAT YOU CAN’T SAY.”

You get off the train without even knowing why.

The mailbox has no slot for letters, just a cracked phone screen bolted into the metal. When you touch it, your own iMessage drafts pop up—every unsent paragraph, every angry note, every “yo I miss you” you typed and erased. Messages to old friends, to people you lost, to the city itself. Stuff you forgot you ever wrote.

Then the screen glitches.

The drafts start turning into song titles. Your late-night rants become verses. Old voice notes you saved “just in case” become hooks. The phone freezes on one final prompt:

“LAST CHANCE TO SEND: greetings from toronto (unsent)”

You hit cancel.

The station lights flicker. When they come back on, the mailbox is gone. All that’s left is a folder on your phone with rough demos that didn’t exist five minutes ago.

Over the next few months, every time something heavy happens—a fight, a win, a panic attack, a crazy night downtown—a new “unsent” file shows up in that folder. You never remember recording it, but it sounds like you: tired, honest, and way too real. Eventually you realize the album is basically writing itself from everything you’ve lived through in this city.

So you finish it. You polish the drafts, build around them, turn the chaos into tracks… but you leave the title exactly how it showed up the first night:

“greetings from toronto (unsent)”

Trust me I know

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Ash Interlude

nokia

prod. by DMH

MERCH
https://gonewallace.com/

Stream NEW WORLD
http://bit.ly/3lGuFSB

Stream FULL ALBUM
https://bit.ly/3dLrioz


Visual Album: https://bit.ly/3h2ukH7


© 2020 |HAVEN| Records

omnimadeit - MARY JAYSON (prod. kanserrr

OMNIMADEIT★