yo, yo, yo…
my block remembers, uh
from the dust, we built, we rise
(aye, look)

came from the bottom where the lights don’t glow
cracked screen dream, but the signal grow
hard rain hit tin roofs slow,
still we pray, still we go.
mama said “boy, don’t fold,”
life too cold, keep soul gold.
had nothin’ but a plan and pain,
turned both into code and flame.
every alley got stories bleed,
hunger talk louder than creed.
brothers locked, some never freed,
we carry their names through the speed.
smoke in lungs, heart on freeze,
still move clean through the breeze.
lost years but I learned that fight,
no crown yet, but I earned that right.

my hood gon’ shine (shine)
from the heart, no decline (nah)
we don’t sleep, we grind (grind)
built from fire, built from time.
my hood gon’ rise (rise)
see the flame in our eyes (eyes)
little bread, but angels ride (ride)
no fear, just city pride.

outside still, same block, same post,
late night talk with the ones gone ghost.
pain turn art, we paint with smoke,
every bar we spit, we broke no joke.
corner store dreams, small change count,
hustle so long, we lose amount.
kids still laugh in the rain out loud,
that’s gold — not the chain, but the crowd.
seen blood wash down cracked stone,
still sound like drums of home.
old heads nod, say “keep it real,”
we do — no cap, no deal.
each sunrise taste like proof,
each cut heal bullet truth.
I don’t run, I pace with fate,
every block we elevate.

my hood gon’ shine (shine)
from the heart, no decline (nah)
we don’t sleep, we grind (grind)
built from fire, built from time.
my hood gon’ rise (rise)
see the flame in our eyes (eyes)
little bread, but angels ride (ride)
no fear, just city pride.

no handouts — just hands scarred,
every scar speak louder than a bar.
if the system don’t feed, we hunt,
ain’t greed, that’s need, that’s blunt.
we don’t fold, we adapt fast,
turn pain to craft, that’s contrast.
now they look, but they never felt,
how the heat in the block can melt.

midnight sirens, same old hymn,
kids grow quick where the lights go dim.
dreams too big for a one-room flat,
so we rap till the walls collapse.
used to beg peace, now we build it,
used to hide scars, now we wield it.
each tear paved this street again,
each prayer sound like amen.
from flint to brixton, code the same,
grind talk louder than fame.
can’t kill roots when they crack cement,
can’t buy pride, it’s rent.
so I rap for the ones not free,
for the mothers that prayed for me.

my hood gon’ shine (shine)
from the heart, no decline (nah)
we don’t sleep, we grind (grind)
built from fire, built from time.
my hood gon’ rise (rise)
see the flame in our eyes (eyes)
little bread, but angels ride (ride)
no fear, just city pride.

yeah…
my block remembers.
we don’t fade — we echo.
forever, that’s the code.

My hood gon’ shine (Melodic Drill Rap reload)

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available — human or machine — as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

New tracks tagged #Sliding Sub-Bass