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Hug Life

by Jonah

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1.
Barriers Sample from Charlie Chaplin’s ‘The Great Dictator’. [Verse 1] Wanna succeed so bad as an original cat And combat every lack in every turn up track And blacken this game like a seared scorch stain Then retain my reign as every mainstream’s bane And claim a little fame to this gay emcee name As I’ve been called, appalled, by todays embrace But am I supposed to be proud and stand up erect? And not correct the specs of these train wrecks that we elect? Well that’s dangerous talk for a kid who raps stupidly Ignores how good Luda be and barely hit puberty Well goodness me, didn’t see that being 16 breeched free speech So fuck it he’s a kid, ignore his lips and rid his preach Yo what’s behind these teeth ain’t just curses Blurted into words then heard ‘cause this world ain’t perfect And are you sure kid, ‘cause fame’s a real burden And frankly this earth is really knowledge allergic [Hook] Just wanna be something in the eyes of these nice Emcee guys and kind mic barrers I want the kids to bump my rhymes instead of scarier Gang peers but feelin my years career [Verse 2] So much holding me back but I’ll ignore the evidence Forget its presence and hide in the cleverness Of every other header-worthy spitter in my litter early Rap bloomers that’ll later lead like Twitter-clergy Yeah, you heard me our time might not be now But funny thing about time, it matures with every crowd And learns with every frown and yearns for every town Just wants to be the next sound, crown the new noun A renown cycle older folks despise highly In fifty years screamin “God take us back to Miley!” In twenty seven cheers could be as real as Boots Riley Wisely spittin heat, the new cheap kicks are Nikes And yo, cry me a river ‘cause you’re young I know it’s the time for fun, in their eyes getting drunk But the bars on my tongue ain’t the same ones that bump These grown ass men rich off pretending they Donald Trump [Hook 2] Just wanna be something in the eyes of these nice Emcee guys and kind mic barrers I want the kids to bump my rhymes instead of scarier Gang peers but feelin my years career Barriers I’m feelin my Barriers
2.
Counting Sheep Sample from Jim Dorsey’s ‘Tangerine’ [Verse] Slip it quick into a conundrum, humble no humbug Dip the kids into a Sleeping Beauty type of slumber Lulled her when I grabbed the mic and spiked a slow number Lack thunder what they gabbed, hashtag Jonah’s Tumblr Put them in a bad mood, flow into a top down Boom bap rap with a two digit tempo sound That’s the way I like it, that’s the way I like to spit Clip the other rappers yappers if you don’t like it Brittle voice, flee-bitten little kid with a little bit Of faith in himself backed by a drum kit Spittle on his bib and dribblin to puddle up his confidence But I’m flippin this high chair and kickin out of my crib ‘Cause all my life I’ve been hearing I’m too young just quit I’ll set fire to stupidity instead of bong hits And roll up a little bit of soul instead of blunt rips And trip on every rich spittin, struggle talkin clique ‘Cause legit, right now don’t care if you hate my lines All I got in this mix is my heart, soul and time And dude, it’s all fine if you wanna crush these rhymes Wouldn’t be the first perp to hurt my rep, despise my vibe And gripe to the world, he’s just a high-voiced lie Another cry hurtin Kanye’s time to shine in the light For every other bribe cheering high for the life Of a celebrity who cleverly is robbin ‘em blind Now all my bars are free so come and peep my dream and passion A lashin for every thumbs down, around passin my ration I’m willin to share these maverick tracks and all of this like cash-in But ain’t nothing physical split, my mix a hit and no c-note labyrinth Madness, I just feel that need no commitment happen This tape ratchet then scratch it and carry on to better rappin ‘Cause half you think I’m crap another fourth want faster trap kits And my tongue callus from blabbin about your less than average ‘rappists’ It’s a habit, I’m sorry, that’s your opinion, your choice And I’m mad as hell when cats put down Nas to boost their voice Then embroid this silly void in every hip song deployed On the stereo blaring noise, backing hunt for groin Poison to my ears with cheers for raps death found in gore Insuring that my tracks belong behind closed elevator doors Poured onto ground floor and dumped for short a life in store For sure, nobody will want them, less a profit than a chore I’m less a prophet than Yeezy and I’m sorry I ain’t more Just a kid scribbling pen to pad, a lad that hit record Not a rapper backed by boards, bored by his fans adore Whore towards his mic, might just rhyme when that wallet’s feeling poor Lord!
3.
Enigma Sample from ’21 Jump Street’ [Verse] Vinyl made us, blood-sweat nation Tryin to drop swag into a permanent hiatus Caters to the haters of these old school beats Stealing? I call it re-dealing music at its peak It’s an enigma to them, these names that are a glimpse Into a world of rap that boom-bap’d those kids Wish I could’ve been there, impaired now musically Wish Bigs could have sat down, wouldn’t cap out and tutor me Wish you could see what beats really ought to be Stuck between layers of kick and snare like ricotta cheese Read the label free lips, listen to Spose spit Don’t need Universal to hurtle out hits Yo, call Yeezus and get him on the file And pile up the rivals only for media revival All the while claiming libel when the press portrays slime balls That they are, below par heart covered by a bible And tittle the greats of the beats, spit heat with tight flows You clever like DOOM? No you’ll never come close And hoes with loose flows got more potential than bros Who are more average than Joes and ‘bout as different as clones Can you show me how to make it? Be trash Flow ass and rap just about the money you stack And be ignint to facts when your crack surpass the clap And you lack the wit to see it’s in reverse like a beat trap But alas good tracks ain’t past Presently discrepancies separate passion and cash Hunch and laugh ‘cause you’re prolly not have bad But grab easy cash ‘cause lately cats would rather have that And say I’m blabbering, a rap badgering badger A tatter to mainstreams quilt, less thought than laughter Poor flow and getting badder, more proud than a bragger Rather not chance another kid you have to call ‘the rapper’
4.
Tissue [Verse] I’m feelin like your tissue ‘cause I heard he might have hit you Then ditched you all crippled, impressed his face into your temple And dribbled a little spittle down your face to make you hiccup A jolt of his dismissal just so he could see your nipples Damn, a fine man you had grasped in your hands Wanna relapse to that, wanna smash then trash can Goodness ma’am, and gracious god she’ll demand a plan For a brand new dance a day after she ripped a ring from hand Promised land, I’ll never reach it Another leach on her regret before I can even preach it Jesus I’m screamin, ‘cause she don’t know why Papi’s leavin Not appreciate of my grievance bank for storing all her secrets In pieces she weepin greeted by staring at her cleavage I see that you are weepin but just need a little Aretha Just need a little respect for all this shit that I am keeping Deep in my weak meat and pleading I’ll be the next to treat you right The cold knife of life setting in Grinned when grim thoughts creeped to seep into blend Of hems and the penned thoughts unlocked from my within To see just ‘cause she a ten don’t mean she queen enough for this Her gimmicks, always there, trippin me into this rare State of mind where her binds are winding me to always care Unprepared when she swears that he beat her then shared A death threat to that ex or whatever the heck I bare Just don’t compare to his hair and body soppin up some stares Apparent that fair isn’t darin to drift towards my care Wearing char marks on cats from half drab affairs And little hands snatching shards from the hearts she ensnared The Blair Witch is prolly jealous of her powers To flower the graves of shapes she made from clay trousers And cower back browsers that mistakenly found her Turned them all to cowards then returned them, no vouchers Gas showers, seeping prowlin through slits in her tongue Strung up some dumb sons and dried ‘em out to hung Bum day when a one relationship’s done And one young kid is left to drudge and pick up all the crumbs Now hon, why try so hard to pop that bra? Crawl through all her hotness just to draw a short straw? Why not just stop and grab a different bitch by the paw? Not worth all the drama, wanna put the Prada on pause All her nonsense, rich fits and priss ridden elegance That’s crippling every gentlemen when sippin in her presence And revel it ‘cause your relevance is tested by her heaven kissed Bliss just want to hit but kid her hell’s permanent residence But it’s intense, this feeling to persue Her one-two bouncing steps that hop to a crude tune And why do I ruin my life by buying that boohoo To move a tissue to her loathe in hopes to be the next bruise
5.
Prisoners Sample from WIllie Jones III’s ‘The Thorn’ and an interview with Kendrick Lamar. [Verse] Look at this white kid, Dilla beat for the views Intruding his groove so Christian girls will jump from their pews And spew out the curses lurkin in Maybach tunes And swoon at the Hearses herdin the real cats they shoot And we didn’t do a thing ‘cause we figured they were all talk Wouldn’t walk the walk, just wanted to knock a beat to drop Then cop a gold chain or two to symbolize their cash Pockets fat from rap they tracked by turning art to trash Bass and clap, defacing cats, a few chewed butts of zags Crew cuts and young bloods, dodging cuffs and robbing dads Of their sons, blunt rippin, yellin Bloods Huffing paint, snorting shame, using knives to mug for guns Run bitches run ‘cause their shit’s taking over Make over from loafers to a sagging, bragging poser And no sir, that odor, ain’t a dying breed of voters Who can’t read, thug disease, fleein pigs like Kosher And a MAD city surrounding this song Saw the wrong in convicts scripting through bong hits And why grip bottles and call it role modelin Topple pride when teetering, toddler drunk wobbles it Keep ‘em popping kid ‘cause that’s what I do Chew up some lies and make you try lighting it too Treat the fans uncouth and women like shoes Blow about two hundred, get ‘em off then on to buying new Whack a dude, shoot up his crew then steal away his sister If this is mainstream then I guess I wanna be hipster Roll up my jeans instead of poison ears of the listeners Critters of habit, we’ll scratch it and pact to not be crimes prisoners Mister mister, a misfit truth twister Didn’t shoot that cat it’s a different finger blister Bitter taste and picture blood-stained brain trigger pullin Drifter rulin, grippin gruelin thoughts to profit richer Yo, it’s just the game, bounding round to keep it sane Deranged cranial thoughts pacing blank through the brain And breaking shattering panes, way past it’s okay To be vacant in remorse, only endorsing all the pain To stay famed, paving these grave stone names Raping then, dropping casings to ensure you stay traced In the pavement for your claim to anything even strayin From the plain way they fake the hate then hide behind some prayin
6.
Sphere [Verse] Wishin love was still here, demeanor feeling unclear Mere shell of a weird kid steering from the routine sphere Hearing the other’s fears cheered, commandeering my ears Like I heard you loud and clear just been ignoring you for years And if my peers won’t join me then I really don’t care Bare a mic and raise a fist or trip on every tear But better send up a prayer ‘cause these pages draping where Life has been read a lot of times so got to settle down and share And to my heirs soon inheriting their logic My frothing mouth of knowledge forgot skeletons it closets Hardly conscious, an old prophet slippin truths to make ‘em nauseous But I didn’t vomit, just rotted in this world though I fought it Honest, and when I botched it I closed my eyes and ran Prayin prayers to repair the selfie smell in the air Twelve year old glares while daring nipple slip parental care Impaired? Or just scared to stand different and aware? Oh contraire ‘cause there’s some left respecting their aspects Or accepting their restless loving parents every last breath Blessings digress from hope to duck out to elope Then broken homes lead to bones and your own MTV show Grown at sixteen and broke, lonely sifting through jokes And blows about the blow that she regret she ever smoked You know the nicest thing she hears is that he’s horny with dough Then loaded into his car to be regarded as another hoe Yo, that’s the circle that’s trapping our youth And the proof is every cute kid you never thought would abuse A little truth they knew would void eternity in locked rooms And a chance to groom their own path but lackin a single clue But that won’t be me, so why let it be you? Why let it be a kid you know could change at their roots? Let’s move these poison crews like the Kardashian hoot And let’s change this generation, slowly rakin out the grooves
7.
Wouldn’t Last Original beat – ‘Lark on My Go Kart’ by Asher Roth [Verse 1] What they sayin ‘bout my cadence when I lay down my Le Mis Lam riddlin rapper, Mad Hatter like I’m raven Double entendre ‘cause I’m ravin crazy when I’m tapin But that unsolvable shit that Alice tripped on ain’t the same thing He won’t last, explainin lines that he trashed And platting baps that he snatched from every last rappers stash Just clap, then we’ll dash, unplug our cables from the back Of all known modems hosting any Hug Life tracks And that’ll be his last tape, so help me it’s a fact But I’m fighting back and rapping craft that most the other gabbers lack Hooking fast and juking laughs from the critics and the brash I beat what they shrieked to me, I’m feelin free so come and dap [Hook] And they said it wouldn’t last Said it wouldn’t last And they said it wouldn’t last And they said it wouldn’t [Verse 2] So if you love that girl go get her Ain’t getting younger by the day, afraid of what she might say Stuck dreamin of the way that life could’ve been paved If you would’ve raised that chest and asked that question all brave Hate runs through my veins when I regret my retched Mind that I threw, now I’m slitherin off to fetch it Catchin every breathless night, sleep deprived brethren ‘Cause we’re wishin that we did it back when getting was the best and Good heavens, I’m feeling so damn irrelevant Making poor decisions then relive ‘em for the hell of it Delegate for the delicate rebel gaining the leverage Towards every kid that missed the chance to kiss and then revel it [Hook] [Verse 3] Well they say a lot of shit but they talk out their ass That blabbin a crafted ratchet flabbergasted type of crap That drafts through every hole of ever heart in every cat And packs a little punch with the lunge it drags Hunch and laugh, ‘cause we’re better than that Don’t need a letterman jacket to practice your craft Just crack through the norms and pour through the swarms Of Jordans parkouring on hoards blaring Lorde And roar like the whore to music’s core you restored By boring trap tracks that drop fast and lack chords Of course you’re much more than folks expecting life’s doors To pour open, judging cats on their Flappy Bird scores Hear, hear [Verse 4] And I don’t really know yet if I’m proving them wrong Still screwing in the bolts to upholding my songs And prolonging every strong line I write, scripting life I love so excuse me while I kiss the sky By and by the time flies remembering all it hides In the lines of every bride we didn’t bind in then dive Into life with everything we ever wanted at our side Bite our lips and gotta try, dreams aren’t made following lies [Hook]
8.
Cardboard Crowd (Venom) [Hook] They say that these fans is hard to love, after a week it’s enough, just want to give up But yo, ya’ll are my thrive, quietly, writing my blood And if it’s just a cardboard crowd out there to indulge in Jonah’s little lulls that he wrote for those Those cardboard folks, I ain’t receiving your venom but hopes [Verse] For you I groped this mic and struck life into bars That hard knocked my life, hit like lightning strikes tend to char Every par-lowing hard, cart racin for a chart Spot copping little mark carvin heart breaking narc That ain’t my card, a white kid alarmed By the dark ages of spot taking, fakin every bar Then enlarge an ego, evil people leapin through beat deceitful Read a little regal credence, heathen when reapin religion lethal People, these ain’t the words of your leader Just a creature speaking eager freedom thoughts of a proper teacher And maybe it’s Unorthodocks, a real preacher harboring the secret Of the larger part of a garbage cart he sparked then parched the speakers Of repeat offenders, charged with makin crap then a killing Willingly trippin on bitchin about the gangs they representin And it’s hard to be ten and live that hug life when daddy’s Cryptin Keepin respect for that cardboard kid and visions from a masked villain (C’mon!) [Hook 2] They say that these fans is hard to love, and after a week it’s enough, just want to give up But yo ya’ll are my thrive, ya’ll quietly are writing my blood And if it’s just a cardboard crowd out there to indulge in Jonah’s little lulls that he wrote for (those x3) Cardboard folks, ya’ll ain’t receiving my venom but my hopes

about

This is my debut mixtape. I hope you all will enjoy.
You can easily get in touch with me at my Twitter: @JonahRaps.

In 2014, I put a whole lot into a little bit of tracks. I like 'em. They were about a year in the very, very SLOW making. However, I enjoyed every second of it.

Recorded in my bedroom with a Blue Snowball microphone and mixed straight into Ableton Live 9.

In case you're having problems downloading from Bandcamp: soundcloud.com/jonah-12

Thank you, all!

credits

released April 6, 2014

Written/Recorded/Mixed by Jonah.
Production: Rythmatical, Realms, Madlib and J Dilla.
'Wouldn't Last' - Asher Roth.
Special Thanks: Unorthodocks for inspiration, Realms, Rythmatical and Madlib for the sweet beats, RIP Dilla, and Spiff for driving me to finish this damn tape.

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Jonah Tallahassee, Florida

18
Florida
Music is still alive.

Influences: MF DOOM, Nas, Milo, Earl Sweatshirt, Chance the Rapper.

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