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The Late Bloomer 2

by A.J. Throwback

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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

    When the EP is released, you will also receive a PDF digital liner notes booklet as well as four (4) bonus demo versions of unreleased material only available on Bandcamp.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $6 USD  or more

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 16 A.J. Throwback releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Fluent in My Language, Something New, The Mistress, Temple Thrills, The Late Bloomer 2, Jason's Lyric, Take 37, Chasing Maria, and 8 more. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      $33.25 USD or more (30% OFF)

     

1.
(Intro) Catch Me If You Can (Verse 1) Backtrack to '85, had it all planned out Sunny June afternoon, knew that it would pan out Building up enough nerve, let too many minutes go Now it was the time to tell her everything she didn't know How I scribbled love letters all while the teacher taught How she was the only girl I had this many dreams or thoughts Maybe she would dig quirky dudes wearing suits to school But when the smoke cleared, I was just a stupid fool This is not Pole Position played on Ataris Way outta my lane, she’s in Magnum's Ferrari Practiced on the Autobahn, Talladega's child's play Beauty's 250 miles an hour on a mild day I just learned to ride a bike, nah, not a ninja, but a BMX Barely offa training wheels, laughing when she see him next to her Sweating out that Sunday school blazer Tickled by the courage of this funny new racer Eight miles, one shot, all I need to grace her Wheels keep spinning though with no trace of brake dust When a pretty girl's traveling at lightspeed I'ma need som'n a little faster than a five-speed (Chorus 1) Chase her, all I do is chase her Pedal to the metal, but I can't keep the pace up (I'm sayin’ though) Won’t you slow down, baby, slow down I wish that you would slow down, baby, slow down, unh Speed up, all she do is speed up Laughing all the way, knowing I will never keep up (you playin’ though) Won’t you slow down, baby, slow down I wish that you would slow down, take it slow (Verse 2) I done dodged potholes and blocked roads in Broncos and Tahoes But still she one-ups me in Murcielagos She'll fly out to Lagos, pop up in Largo But then I can't find her like red stripes and Waldo One minute, her honey brown hair's flowing in the wind Dropped the top on the Miata, going for a spin Next minute, looking like the newest Girl 6 Donuts in the Z, leaving digits in a whirlwind She's been a caramel, pouty-lipped driver I'm chasing in a Pacer, but she Dodged me in a Viper She turned into a chocolate girl, debonair and daring I borrowed a Camaro, but her flair was a McClaren She's even been a redhead, blonde and a brunette Bugatti, Maserati, or a product made in Munich A busted radiator while I'm whipping out a tool kit Screaming out the window, "What the eff is that, a Pewjit?” You mean Peugeot? “Either way, move, Joe You ain't got enough juice, chuck deuce, too slow” Even if I had Knight Rider in Pursuit Mode? “Boy please, arm reach? Need to be Manute Bol’s" (Chorus 1) Chase her, all I do is chase her Pedal to the metal, but I can't keep the pace up (I'm sayin’ though) Won’t you slow down, baby, slow down I wish that you would slow down, baby, slow down, unh Speed up, all she do is speed up Laughing all the way, knowing I will never keep up (you playin’ though) Won’t you slow down, baby, slow down I wish that you would slow down, take it slow (Verse 3) I've dreamed of her gullwings flying up, long legs stretching out Red bottom bandit with the perfect body edging out Long hair waving like a checkered flag finish Hope in 29 years, she'll remember last sentence And from my admissions, maybe she will grant wishes Rectify the math: minus bad disses, add kisses But only math she know is how fast she go She's used to saying Audi when your game don't Geo But Mrs. G-O-I-N-G-S Said if I'd have caught Maria, might've been some BS A braggadocious swag, bloviated self Knowing I could bag it, stroke and dash, I would hate myself Feeling ji entitled every time a pretty woman comes along I'd treat her like a hooker, stuffing hundreds in her thong And it's wrong, besides, she might be out for Rodeo It isn't in your make to be her Alfa Romeo She's stock car racing Time to end my subscription to her Motor Trends and stop car chasing Matter fact, headlights, bra chasing It’s just a lot of time wasted (Chorus 2) Chase her, all I do is chase her Pedal to the metal, but I can't keep the pace up (I'm sayin’ though) Won’t you slow down, baby, slow down I wish that you would slow down, baby, slow down, unh Speed up, all she do is speed up Laughing all the way, knowing I will never keep up (you playin’ though) Won’t you slow down, baby, slow down I wish that you would slow down, baby, slow down, unh (Outro) Yeah The bottom line is Every girl that looks good Ain't a good look for you I know you ain't gon' move with Joe But you could still move to it though I know you ain't you ain't gon' move with Joe But you could still move to it though Unh Yeah Ain’t a good look for you I know you ain't gon' move with Joe But you could still move to it though I know you ain't you ain't gon' move with Joe But you could still move to it though
2.
Take 37 03:43
(Intro) If you could believe it Sometimes, I hate the sound of my own voice Like why would anybody wanna listen to ME for five minutes Let alone 60 It’s not raspy, not rugged (Take 1, take 2, here's another one) It’s not overly distinctive (Take 3, take 4, and another one) But among all these voices (Take 5, take 6, take 37?) How do I stand out? (Verse) Questioning the script that I've written down, pissed how I spit it out When I'm in the booth, biggest critic isn't Christgau Buying macchiatos for my doubts, having sit downs Asking, "Why my love headed south and y'all stick around?" Did Chris Wallace ever go through this nonsense? Feeling like his voice isn't BIG enough to convince Audience that he is content with his content And confident that very few will object his project My insecurities are sticking out, convex Please let me put it in perspective, context '93, cherry red boombox Back when the dude rocked K-Swiss and tube socks Listening to 2Pac, Ice Cube, Black Moon, Redman Hanging onto every single syllable they said, man Critical injections, pinnacle inflections Affected effectiveness of lyrical direction Entrance, little ol' me swore I was doing something when I dared to press record My first rhyme about my ex who would cheat more Let my homies hear it, "That was cool," didn't seek more Nah, I ain't expect to hear "the boy's fire" I was two years removed from the boys' choir Singing Troop to those girls in the classroom Took me a sabbatical, the culture didn't have room Another ten years before the booth But in the meantime, put my voice to good use As I pulled from my inner Mel Lindsey Touch of Mel Blanc had the school in a frenzy Speeches to lead? Yeah, I penned now Voice of the youth, I was less Lil' Mama, more Les Brown Plus the poetry would add another fresh sound But it was that Mario Paint on my Super NES down In my basement, my flow was kinda basic Biggie laid the blueprints, all I did was trace it Parodies, Black Al Yankovic of high school “You did this on a video game?" "Yeah, I'm a fool” Was a while before they heard “here's another one” Had to get some better words and ton of drums On the stage, I was better a cappella Instead of trying to recreate the Wu or Roc-A-Fella It was boom, tap, as the room clapped At the first sign of life that the dude rapped They were moved back, didn't know that he could harness His way with words usually reserved for the Congress Ha, monstrous, but largely, I paused it Probably being comfortable with making beats caused it But yeah buddy, first time in the booth Just an intro, but them first lines were the truth And I heard myself, grown up, compressed Flow was ji hot, I might need a cold compress So I wrote complex rhymes to keep my arm stretched From my competition, but it's still not a contest Star of the gang, but to masses, I did not appeal Now it's less Webster’s, more '93 Bonnevilles I rode smooth on the Pro Tools, folks who Barely knew my middle name ain't believe that I'm the same dope dude My own wife even gotta ask twice And I ask myself, "Am I that WACK or that NICE?" Breaking down bars: "Man, I could've worded THAT different What in Sam Hill was THAT blur I ad-libbed in? And THAT syllable was s'posed to be pronounced more Where was the energy that should've made it bounce more? I mean, it's okay, could've made it count more" Then I hear the crowds shout more and doubt is outdoors Exhale, that's the breath I had to make Breathe Gladiator, we ain't doing 37 takes, nah (Outro) I just need to get over myself, fam My voice is my voice Take 1, take 2, here's another one Take 3, take 4, and another one Take 5, take 6, take 37? Chill!
3.
(Intro) What you running from? (Yeah) What you running from? (Yeah) What you running from now... yeah (Verse 1) Maybe my pastor struck a nerve...by calling me out, saying I'm backsliding "'Cause the service still going and I got class assignments And Mrs. Jackson done had the Spirit for half the time And we've been here since ten, but that short hand 'bout to slap the five" But though the calls to discipleship took forever Less a young man of God, more chicken in cooker pressure Push and pressing his luck, I'm hearing a Whammy with deacon talk "Rev, I'm too young, it's difficult simply to breathe and walk Without feeling my kneeling's a superficial ruse Still hearing whistles, so is this Book the official rules?" Drastic passages, manifest for their destiny Then Daddy fanning fires by handing me Stolen Legacy Besides, I'm questioning whether I'm even part of plans Couldn't catch the Spirit with Stick-Um and Cris Carter's hands Do I believe in Heaven and Hell and the Godhead Foggy as London, but won't hear me saying He's not there (Chorus) Road to the truth seems like a long way (WAY) Tucking my map, stay in the wrong state (STATE) Almost to E, my fuel is gone away (AWAY) In need of a push, don't wanna stall today (OK) Stranded alone, homie, I'm so scared (SCARED) But if He ain't the key, then I know I'm going Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere, nowhere, no-no-nowhere (Verse 2) Out in the wild, my Basic Instructions collecting dust I'm out of bounds, behavior repugnant, respecting nothing Holy rollers, annoying when trying to save me the melee Holy waters, need a dip, but guilt tripping? That ain't a vacay If free will is the vehicle prone to roam Shifting gears to safer roads, I had to hone on my own After sifting through prophets for profit in towns full of clones God's whispering like, "U-Haul and unload, you've found your home Where fellowshipping in love's the only policy No histrionics or mockery, all philosophy" But irony: while counting twenties in stewardship Satan's side betting like, "Million dollars this dude'll quit!" Between a lack of support, tucking my demons People gleaning every weekend, I weakened, "Bump it, I'm leaving" Ghost of Moses is bugging and pleading like, "Joseph, the morbid fear Israelite eleven nights: blink and it's forty years" (Chorus) Road to the truth seems like a long way (WAY) Tucking my map, stay in the wrong state (STATE) Almost to E, my fuel is gone away (AWAY) In need of a push, don't wanna stall today (OK) Stranded alone, homie, I'm so scared (SCARED) But if He ain't the key, then I know I'm going Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere, nowhere, no-no-nowhere (Verse 3) Four years ago, was still a man of God But struggles abducted me from the hand of God Had me spazzing in cars, crying and mad at God Poor man's Banneker: reimagined the plans of God I'm weary and wheezing trying to abandon God Hard to run for long when you fail to train for the marathon Question positions: "Lord, why am I here and not over there THERE is the fountain of my prime, HERE is just older hair!" Pondering my choices at-large, due diligence was nil Following the voices of frauds too vigilant to steal Panicking, reclusive, telegraphing excuses Tough imagining passions get blasted in tragic shootings Lysette drafted the blueprint: young, sad and the bluest Can't even fathom which faction has actually grasped the truth Is it the Baptists or Buddhists, Muslims or Jewish, could be Yoruba Headache from all of this knowledge, I vomit, could be medulla Or maybe I'm complicating it purposely 'Cause the fate You created, I face it nervously The younger version of me unveiled a thesis Asked baby boy to spell out Your name, he spelled it Jesus And we ain't have to teach him Almost defeated and faced a hostile life But that's evidence to increase the faith like Apostle Price (Outro) So why you still runnin' now?
4.
(Intro) Man I remember sitting in my momma house Writing letters to these major labels Just hoping to get my foot in the door But between lackluster responses And all the horror stories I'm looking at these bammas like "Need Y'ALL?" For what (Verse) It's probably better my conception was eventual in measure Otherwise, I'm contesting why investors had me fettered Either follow these behests or be beheaded, depressing I could jester, be the 1827 Stepin Fetchit, eff it Extra efforts, turkeys kept forgetting cheddar Toasters on deck, you bred this hell, man, now it's tomato red rebellions So screw that Deuteronomy philosophy Coming for my neck? Get a tighter noose and stronger trees Ain't no differences 'tween my dividends And any women in my lens: need 'em thick, I'm talking real figures So while I'm sowing seeds to succeed I'll be damned to wait a cotton-picking minute, ain't a field nigger Slave papers, contracts, all synonymous Losing sovereignty for poverty, you're not autonomous So while these slaves on the Tube, showing stacks off Might as well be chained, eating gruel, wearing sackcloth Too articulate, meticulous in sentences To consciously diminish any lyric in my penmanship Limited? That diss is not attributed BJing these Sams to get in clubs? Not incentive for their membership March to Gladiator drums, fear the timpani To feel this, gotta meet us on the moon, hear the symphony Constellations make my standard up, of the God who made the universe Don't pigeonhole me to a planet, Bruh (DON'T DO IT) I been a Lone Ranger, ask Tonto Weirdo of the pack sans Gonzo Flipped my lack of flash into a world class art show Expanded that to hot flows, Basquiat of rap slash Picasso Five-year-old who wouldn't take his blazer off to sleep 'Bout my business all the time, ain't no shaving off to cheat (Peep) Evidence of culture in my blood? Check my first bus Hip hop emerged turning curses into surplus (GET MONEY) Now the advent of the Internet Far surpassed sliced bread as the best invention yet Advertising, publishing, distribution, stream service Indie artists, here's your new birth, go'on and dream, merchant True, it's more dirt for me But I don't mind digging my own land, I work for ME (ME) I ain't hurt or beat if others seem to pass me in the race I'm a king, walk around wearing "MASTER" on my face (YEA) I would rather hustle for my clientele Than go through art development recalling cat o' nine tails Prefer the profit over charts, so bump the monsters trying to conquer Dinosaurs: y'all are not the momma or the poppa Razzi probably never catch me on a fancy yacht I'd rather starve on my own than be a glutton eating caveats Freedom is my latitude, only makes sense Where my copyrights are sent, I been on Independence Avenue
5.
(Intro -- A.J. Throwback) Ten dollars That's all y'all charging for beats now I mean, I used to charge less than that Keywords...USED TO (Verse 1 -- A.J. Throwback) What can ten dollars get cha? Hmmm A desk bell to panic, some Koozie knit fabric A silly face magnet, a mustache sandwich If you asked in '67, snag a loosey, 20 matches and a happy ending (Say word) What can ten dollars get cha? Butterfly measure cups Drumsticks, they look like chopsticks, what a treasure "Hon, look, a bunny rabbit shaped dispenser", umm She gon' have the same look as me: "That is rather dumb" Bammas cheapening the market Mahi mahi star fish, but treat it like it's Star Kist 'Member when I started, all about the art then Music made with left brain, heart, limbs, too afraid to charge them Gone is the novice, 23 in my mother's basement Ducking dayshifts, two drum machines to play with Recognize a veteran, better them than me Taking Hamiltons you surely can do better than (Chorus -- A.J. Throwback) You are not speaking my language Fam, I'm tryna eat, but you won't let me in the banquet Go back to the bank quick, miss me with that lame tip Need more than just the ten dollars that you came with (Came with) You are not speaking my slang Betta bring some more bucks if you want some more bang Otherwise, give a rang to a whole 'nother gang What can ten dollars get you over here? Not a thang (Not a thang) (Verse 2 -- Kae-9) Yeah, nigga flow off the richter Don't come around me askin' bout what ten dollars get cha, shit 'Cause I'ma tell ya not a muthafuckin' thing Where was you when a nigga had his pockets in a sling, boy Probably commentatin' from the sidelines Now niggas tryna give me high fives, come again, nigga Take that high five minus four, my guy And that's the only fuck I gotta give, nigga, why lie As of late, I feel like top five I'm thinkin' home run, they hopin' for a pop fly I'm puttin' hits out, but shit, I been a wise guy Minus the suit and tie, my coat tail they tryna ride They peep that I'm peakin', it ain't a secret So if it ain't 'bout the money, then we ain't speakin If niggas talkin' bout features, I'm talkin' figures now Can hear 'em now, this nigga Kae think he Jigga now, wow (Chorus -- A.J. Throwback) You are not speaking my language Fam, I'm tryna eat, but you won't let me in the banquet Go back to the bank quick, miss me with that lame tip Need more than just the ten dollars that you came with (Came with) You are not speaking my slang Betta bring some more bucks if you want some more bang Otherwise, give a rang to a whole 'nother gang What can ten dollars get you over here? Not a thang (Not a thang) (Verse 3 -- A.J. Throwback) What can ten dollars get cha? Hmmm A unicorn poncho, nail art rock show Ice rocket pop mold, plush giant microbe Shaped like a bed bug, sperm cell, maggot, chicken pox, mold (UGH) What can ten dollars get cha? Stickers Zombie family car to be specific, picks in the Shape of a dart or a holiday smencil kit Sniffing mistletoe in your writtens? That's ridiculous This is the consignment, one of a kind knit North Star sowing, need a telescope to find this (YA CAN'T SEE IT) But for a small piece of cheese, they'll take a trap beat When I done already lapped 'em twice in this track meet (TWICE) I'm not against being thrifty But ninjas being stingy, saying "Bruh, I need it quickly Got the nerve to be picky only paying $Free.50, not to mention that The Mrs. wanna kiss me, but I'm busy and she's pissed, B And I ain't getting paid, she done had enough Not a mathematics fan, still tryna add it up Not when half of these acts seem to only yap of bucks Shouldn't equal out to zero when you more than carry one (Umm) Dollars to photographers, engineers, barkeeps and club promoters Some new Jordans, but nobody showing love to Joseph I mean, a ten would've been as cool Ain't worth the table scraps, dogged, guess I been a fool It's my fault, should've taught 'em how to treat me Gave it to 'em cheaply, so how'd they really cheat me Dr. King steez: turned the cheek, let 'em beat me But no more, you can't even sneak peek my weak beats (NO SIR) I'm with a trade or some bartering, but shouldn't have to Wave any plates for the offering, by the way You don't get to name what the offer is, take it and Respect it or you need not remain where my office is (BOUNCE) I'm a business man, don't offend this Man with intentions to pass on them dividends, but Ask for some benefits, but mad when you missing from the plans 'Less your signature is cash, I'm illiterate Not a desperate man like the rest in the land Madd pressed for that second-hand mess Just to show you I'on't mean to be rude, dawg What can ten dollars get? Welp, I got a real mean kazoo, dawg (Outro -- A.J. Throwback) Yeah Get 'em Do it Man Woo That's hot Can't tell me that ain't a hit son A-ha-ha-ha-ha
6.
(Intro – A.J. Throwback) Man It’s crazy when I think about it Couple years ago, I was tryna put this off as long as I possibly could But I knew as a young boy I wanted this experience I just never thought it’d be as fun as it is, ya know Check (Verse 1 – A.J. Throwback) Our little healer...welcome to the world Although some people thought that you would be a girl And if you were, I would've loved you just the same But I'm glad I got somebody who will work to keep the fame ‘Cause the Gs in your name ain't for "goblin" or "gremlin" There's meaning to your name, you are Godly and gifted A helper, a harbinger that God truly saves And for you to make it here beyond circumstance is brave You're the rave that so many people prayed for One of the reasons me and Mom are in this game for And I don’t know who you'll become, but you're primed to be great Spoke life into your bones before your eyes were awake To think about you following my steps is kinda ill When the world becomes an oven, you’re the coolest kind of chill It's real, you're more than just a lyric that I write You're a spirit full of fight, you're our miracle of life (Chorus – Michael Jahlil) Took a little time for you to get here So please, won't you stay a while So I can marvel at the way you grow Thank God how He made you smile Gonna teach you how to be a man Have fun and let you be a boy With every part of my spirit You're my heart, you're my lyric, you're my joy (Verse 2 – A.J. Throwback) You should've had a sister or a brother Who very well could've made a difference and discover Some necessary cures, maybe even be a poet But I had 'em wearing cotton, taking trips to the Potomac It's code for the cold and I know it But Poppa gave his soul to them rollers and I wasn't tryna blow it Of bringing him or her into a home that wasn't focused On the bigger goal of fitting into roles and devoting All your love…not to mention I was frightened Between your Pop-Pop and I, there'd be too much a likeness And for whatever reason, either speeches getting heated Or cheating, my inner fears were leaning on me leaving But the home that you entered, departure's not a choice And how can it be when love is emanating from your voice My boy, you're more than just a lyric that I write You're a spirit full of fight, you're our miracle of life (Chorus – Michael Jahlil) Took a little time for you to get here So please, won't you stay a while So I can marvel at the way you grow Thank God how He made you smile Gonna teach you how to be a man Have fun and let you be a boy With every part of my spirit You're my heart, you're my lyric, you're my joy (Verse 3 – A.J. Throwback) I often thought (what you think) when I'd hear about you coming I'd get a noose's worth full of knots in my stomach Look up like, "Come on, You really think I'm able? I barely keep enough for me and Beeb on the table And Lord, I ain't perfect, how can I be a model? I'm scared I'll either be too hard on him or I'll coddle Try to get him from the bottle to the spoon rather soon Potty train him all wrong and his confidence is doomed And what about my music? Am I selling my equipment? I'll rarely have the time when he's crawling 'round and limping I don't wanna resent him, he never asked to be" Then He said, "Joe, whatever passes Me has to be Please believe…I wouldn't take you through the stressing If I didn't have a solid plan to take you to the blessing I chose you to father him, and though you didn't father them I molded you a certain way so you could potter him" So Jay, if I come across like a Derringer Shooting through your spirit, it's completely out of character ‘Cause as much as you're in training, so am I And neither one of us succeeds if your leader doesn't try I'll mess up for sure, I'll screw up for certain But I'll bear the brunt of pain if it means you're rarely hurting You're worth it, you’re more than just a lyric that I write You're a spirit full of fight, you're our miracle of life, for life (Chorus – Michael Jahlil) Took a little time for you to get here So please, won't you stay a while So I can marvel at the way you grow Thank God how He made you smile Gonna teach you how to be a man Have fun and let you be a boy With every part of my spirit You're my heart, you're my lyric, you're my joy You’re my joy You’re my joy Yeah Every part of my lyric, you’re my joy

about

As the sequel to my debut EP, 'The Late Bloomer 2' partially picks up where its predecessor left off by centering its attention on early childhood, adolescence and adulthood. With a range of subjects including infatuation, finding my own voice and fatherhood, I outline how my mistakes within these experiences may have DELAYED my arrival, but they never DENIED my destiny.

credits

released September 15, 2022

"Chasing Maria"
(Joseph Lawrence Goings, Talmadge Whitaker Jr.)
Produced by A.J. Throwback for The BAMMpire.
Additional Production by T. Witz for Tribe Trinity Entertainment LLC.

"Take 37"
(Joseph Lawrence Goings, Bradford Burwell, Keith Delts)
Produced by A.J. Throwback for The BAMMpire.

"Nowhere (Demo Version)"
(Joseph Lawrence Goings, Asshole McGee, Marilyn McLeod, Pamela Joan Sawyer)
Produced by Asshole McGee.

"Independence Avenue"
(Joseph Lawrence Goings, Keith Delts)
Produced by Gladiator.

"What Can Ten Dollars Get Me?" (feat. Kae-9)
(Joseph Lawrence Goings, Keenan W. Ellerbe)
Produced by A.J. Throwback for The BAMMpire.

"Jason's Lyric" (feat. Michael Jahlil)
(Joseph Lawrence Goings, Michael Jahlil McLaughlin)
Produced by A.J. Throwback for The BAMMpire.


A&R - A.J. Throwback
Art Direction – A.J. Throwback
Creative Direction – A.J. Throwback, Gladiator, T. Witz
Engineers – T. Witz (track: 1), Gladiator (tracks: 2, 4, 5, 6), A.J. Throwback (track: 3)
Executive Producer – A.J. Throwback
Keyboard, Drum Programming – A.J. Throwback (tracks: 1, 2, 5, 6), Asshole McGee (track: 3), Gladiator (track: 4)
Additional Production – T. Witz (track: 1)
Lead Vocals – A.J. Throwback (tracks: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6), Kae-9 (track: 5), Michael Jahlil (track: 6)
Additional Vocals – B-Witty, Gladiator (track: 2)
Management – Balancing Act Music & Media LLC
Photography By – The Jacqueline D. Jones Collection, Micah Goings, Marvin W. Armstrong, Yasmin Salina
Sleeve Notes – A.J. Throwback

℗© 2022 Balancing Act Music & Media LLC.

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A.J. Throwback Silver Spring, Maryland

D.C.-born artist A.J. Throwback has produced for The Healacist, Ransom Rellic, Klutch Da Rapper, BRIXX, DH MVJOR, Lady Cee, Debo Wayne, Mic Mountain, Anaymous Touch & Night Train 357. He has released two mixtapes, two beat tapes, two EPs, and was creator, DJ & co-host w/ Ramsey Brown of 'BARS'. In 2024, he released two R&B instrumental singles, "Something New" & "Fluent in My Language". ... more

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