A Lyrical Cry for Help

Rejection. Depression. Loneliness. Guilt. Anger. Revenge. This final album from yours truly encompasses all these--and more. Before I end it all, let me take you through the twists and turns of the convoluted emotional Hellstorm that is..was my life.

I've been going back and forth with it for a while. This project is actually part 3 in a series I called "Return to Art"---a trilogy I started way back in 2011.

I was so optimistic then. All I wanted to do was rap. I remember all the garbage that was coming out as I was coming into my style in the late 2000s, and I wanted to bring about a return to art as a response to it. I called myself FLOW because I wanted people to focus on what I DO more than who I am.

I wanted to be a flickering light amidst ever-encroaching darkness. I knew there were others out there like me, others who would get what I was trying to do.

It makes me so happy that some of them went on to become legends in their own right. Kendrick Lamar...man...bruh you the shit! You too, Logic (congrats on the baby!), and you as well, J.Cole. Joey Bad Azz, Joyner Lucas..there are just too many to name.. You guys make me realize that this "return to art" I was trying to bring about with my wack ass first album was already happening and didn't need me to move any waves to start a revolution!

By the time I completed my second album, Return to Art 2 in 2018, I internalized this and switched my focus to rapping more about my personal life, using the mic to vent about personal and political issues. I still would tell a story every now and then, putting my lyrical prowess to work, but overall, my second album was about trying not to focus on the fact that the love of my life ghosted me. I was so depressed, and doing those sessions literally saved my life.

And oh yeah, I gotta shout out Eminem man...he inspired me from DAY ONE way back in 1998 when I was 13 years old in middle school. Second semester of 8th grade... riding to school on those cold March mornings just didn't feel right if I wasn't bumping "Brain Damage" or "Still Don't Give A Fuck." I’d never heard a rapper spit with so much passion, realism, and confidence. His story is one of humble beginnings, moving from place to place, and being the underdog– the “different” one. I relate. Plus, I’d been a writer since the age of 7, writing short stories and poems– why not put those ideas in the form of raps? For years, I was known as the guy who could write. I’d won awards for my narratives. But I never actually vocalized anything. Rapping would give my creativity a voice, a brand new aspect of my ability to amaze people with what I could come up with.

But by the 3rd album above, I'd completely lost it. I'd lost everything. My studio, my girl, my money, my job, my car, everything. I looked up and I was 35 years old with 3 children who can't depend on their dad because he ain't got shit and is always broke..I tried out for the hip-hop show, One Shot--that went nowhere. I posted my songs on review shows and everyone clowned me and told me I didn't belong. I entered more contests and got rejected. Did shows and the crowd seemed distracted the whole time. I posted it on my social media and got no substantial response (just like I will here, no doubt)...I put up flyers that wore torn down, printed business cards that were used as mini dustpans for people's ashes...I looked up and I was a 35 year old man with 3 children he couldn't support because he spent 20 years chasing rap... That's when I decided that Flow had to die.