Stumbling after these passages I’ve unchained,
turnin over every stone like a drug raid.
Shame struck me sharper than some of my partners’ gun games
as I was savin places for my day ones, and none stayed.
Verses were tourniquets on atrophied muscle,
diggin my past outta capsule til I damaged the shovel.
Rap was a struggle, then I started puttin tracks in a duffle
like wifey walkin outta Sally with a bag full of bundles
Fastenin buckles on these time machine seats
when ninety-three weeks of my diet was deep sleep.
Our playground was Wicker, liquor tire-swing cheap,
chewin through a cypher let our dyin dreams eat.
Performin live from the back of the shelf
scratchin another L into that capital WELP
with twinnin detonator buttons strapped to my belt,
pregnant with litters of bullets I named after myself.
Jumpin through the projector before the movie starts,
soles of my boots splittin lenses into computer parts.
Used to fix my face into menace with moody art
til all of my blemishes melted into beauty marks.
my favourite backwoodz release for 2021 that flew under my radar for far too long. my real favourite track is probably Bardo, but that's not on this this release. a wonderfully pensive collection of tracks, i'm excited for whatever comes next in Prem's future. Jonathan Pickelbelly