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.
1. |
Chasing Maria
04:07
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(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
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2. |
Take 37
03:43
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(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!
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3. |
Nowhere (Demo Version)
03:52
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(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?
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4. |
Independence Avenue
02:37
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(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
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5. |
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(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
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6. |
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(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
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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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