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STMS [11​.​1​.​20 Demo]

from Meditations by Sarob

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about

It's no secret I haven't put out a lot of music this year. I couldn't convince myself to ask people to consume my work when there are more important voices which should be prioritized. As I continue to seek where my art belongs, this was something I felt compelled to share.

lyrics

[V1]
Blowing Ls indiscreet, swing a ep in the Jeep
I was sick of the same scene, took my faith on a leap
Some days I maintain, some days when I weep
I upraise the price, appraise the preme
… that’s the tweet
Don’t nobody want no smoke, they know that’s the chief
Think it’s all bark, but I’m on my grind like I’m gnashing teeth
Keep ya head down, see the cash increase
Mr. Porter slacks creased
Risen from the ash heap
Whole lotta izm
My decisions outlast me
Goals and a vision
Through the prism of a glass piece
Pro-abolition, free Palestine and max b
~
See if the shoe fits, I’m in Carolina blue kicks
Narrow-minded niggas adding two cents,
But I'm the news clips cliquing with Blueprint
Mami axin who’s this
In my ear it’s only God and Q-tip
Only begotten nuisance
Forbidden truth is the kid is ruthless
Talent roof-less,
Torturing myself cause I’m never satisfied with my improvements
Columbus, OH, I provided a movement
Shorty playing games, and I feel like I’m past that
Money clip on me, last year I was cash-strapped
Heisman on them hoes in a hazmat
Toxic, fucking with my brain, causing flashbacks

[Hook] (x2)
Gotta do something that means something
Something that means something
Something that means something

[V2]
How could I floss if I’m rotten at the root?
Had to get my mind right, had to get myself through
Set up bound-aries and women turned femmes en feu
But good riddance…I’ll do me and you do you
Taking in fresh breath, taking on less stress
There was a time I thought success was mea-sured by excess—
How do I get the look, how do I impress?
Until my whole life was all about the clout I possessed
At the studio, I feel unease:
My verse played from a song I made with Kashis Keyz
…Niggas starting gassin, shorties screamed
But nobody heard a word or a harmony
That type of shit is hard for me
Since I’ve made my life bout forming a discography
I’ve become an agent of hypocrisy:
Through the art I preach about peace, empowerment and philosophy
Yet without attention what any good is my artistry?
It’s speaking to an empty room
My friends on MTV cause MP3s got plenty views
Pavilion mezzanine I hesitate and panic looms—
Can I reach masses talking Tupac and David Hume?
I wish I had an answer, too
Logging off IG as soon as my check passes thru
Nonprofit outreach and other work I had to do
Tryna liberate and decolonize
But it’s hard to rise when I rely on Spotify and dotted lines

[Hook]

credits

from Meditations, track released November 9, 2020

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Sarob Chicago, Illinois

Something that means something.

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