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New Problems

One.
I met this chick in Idaho after a show I did with Hopsin.
Took her back to the hotel, oh my god it was awesome.
First time I spent the night with a lady so gorgeous.
Thought I was in love with her when I woke up to her that morning.
We just clicked.
I wanted to take her on the rest of the tour, she was down with it.
My manager told me let time pass, wait.
So I ended up flying her out for the five last dates.
It was better than before.
Never would have thought
I'd be with a random girl that I met with on the job.
Couldn't tell if I was falling for her or tripping because of her.
Shit, I got comfortable on them comforters.
We were basically dating for the week.
She flew back home, I flew back home, I made it in one piece.
But she was falling apart, texting me every moment.
Telling me she's sick of home, I was just homesick
'cause when I got home I felt like I was kind of over it.
I stopped hitting her up; she started noticing.
I was never the it, didn't realize how deep I was in
till she sent me snapchats of cuts deep in her skin.
Some suicidal shit.
Telling me that I'm supposed to be with you so if we're not together there is no reason why I should live.
Now I'm under the table texting her subtly
praying that this chick don't kill herself because of me.
New problems.

New problems
Don't tell my momma 'bout all these new problems.
New problems.

Two.
This bitch ass snake is tryna sign me. When I met him few years ago he was that guy to me.
He knew all my favorite rappers personally.
It blew my mind when he said he wanted to work with me.
And before I could even digest what he said to me,
he literally already had people calling who said they want to invest in me.
Damn, thought I was in a dream.
First time homies with somebody in the industry.
Thought I was 'bout to blow up; I was overwhelmed.
Thinking to myself, is it really supposed to go this well?
So before I made a move,
I told him before I agree to anything, prove to me what you can do.
He set up a video shoot, it was a nightmare.
He put money behind it but didn't care about my ideas.
Arguing over the creative direction,
I said fuck it, I ain't doing this, I scrapped it the whole session.
Then I made the song Exception.
Thinking I know this one is powerful, he's gotta love it, I gotta send it.
He said he liked it but he wants to edit,
so he got a new beat, corny hook and turned it to a pop record.
This dude's tripping.
Acting like a baller but now I know that he's not 'cause he's treating me like a dollar.
Just another check off his checklist, check to deposit.
Now demanding 20 percent for the work he put on this.
He ain't did shit,
subliminally hinting to me he gon' blackball me if he don't get shit.
He know everybody in the game; they're gonna believe him more too.
I want to tell him suck a dick, but I can't afford to.
New problems.

New problems.
Please don't tell my momma 'bout all these new problems.
New problems.

Three.
Got a couple bucks now so I'm skeptical
'bout where I put my time, I'm busy all the time and I feel terrible
'cause I've been slipping up.
Spending all this time with fake friends I got family members I ain't hitting up.
But I don't want to hear anyone judging my choices
if they don't know what it feels like to go from completely avoided
to somebody that everybody is talking about.
It don't even feel the same when I walk in my house.
New rumors 'bout me every single day. Like he don't want to chill with us, he rather chill with Sway.
He think he's better than us. He think he's moving on.
I go out, pretend to be social, just to prove them wrong.
But I ain't see my dad in a month.
I only see him for dinner; we're still acting like that's good enough.
But I've been blowing him off like I'm busy and stuff
to the point it don't feel the same when he's picking me up.
You know when you're comfortable enough with someone that you could be in complete silence and it wouldn't be awkward?
Well, it's awkward between us, I'm bothered.
So I ask stupid questions just to keep him talking.
Like how is your job? How is your mom?
How did I get here from riding these songs?
I go to my homies' houses and I'm jealous of them.
'Cause they see their dad as a dad, I see my dad as an old friend.
I bet he's afraid to bring it up.
'Cause he can see I'm under pressure even though I act like I don't give a fuck.
Acting like I'm ready for this. Acting like I'm cooler.
Acting like I'm not afraid of the future and all my new problems.

Exception

There they go again. Harassing this kid, so easily.
His name is Andy, he grew up right down the street for me.
I barely know him though I just see him at school while passing him
usually followed by 2 kids giggling in back of him.
I don’t know why they feel the need to interfere.
And I’ll be honest man, the kid’s obviously a little weird.
He’s got a stutter plus always talks to himself but it is clear
To me they shouldn’t mess with him he probably wish they’d disappear
Like yea he’s different, so? He ain’t causing harm to anyone.
Yea he might annoy them, not on purpose though, he’s never done
Something intentionally offensive like these other kids
Like yelling stop being a retard when they see him mumbling.
Or call him a fagget when he’s saying something awkward.
Yeah he lives with it, but he shouldn’t have to any longer.
He’s just a kid like any of us, and matter fact
Next time I see it i’ma say something and have his back

The next day ain’t any better, they’re abusing him.
Every day gets worse ’cause people except as they become used to it.
And he don’t stand up, but what can you do with that hate against you?
You call them out, you’re called a spaz with some anger issues.
They hear but they don’t listen, senseless.
They hearing that bullies are everywhere, thinking that here must be the exception.
But it’s so alive and it’s so true
they got open eyes but they don’t view
They got growing minds, that they don’t use
And it’s pulverizing our whole youth.
But to be honest, Most of these bullies don’t mean any harm.
They’re just kids like any of us, they like to be in change.
They like attention, they just lack guidance in getting it.
So they put others down, none of us are always innocent.
But that don’t make it right.
‘Cause again I’m watching Andy get tortured by two of his peers with no reason in sight.
And I know he knows I’m watching, he sees me be paying attention.
And it’s getting worse and worse I hope he knows that I respect him.

The next day Andy didn’t show up to school and I was nervous.
He always came to this class, I wondered what was the purpose.
The same class had the two kids who’ve been messing with him.
But without a target, both of them just blended right in.
20 minutes later the class was pretty quiet.
As Andy walks through the door he was shaking and crying.
As all the heads slowly in sinc turn, he pauses.
Then pulls a pistol out of his front pocket.
The girls scream, the boys sat there terrified.
Nobody expected it but everyone knew the reason why.
And before anyone could say something fully.
Within seconds two bullets flew into his bullies.
More screams as the bodies collapsed
I felt I should say something ’cause Inwas the only one who had his back.
I said “it’s over Andy, they’re dead, you had your wish”
He turned to me and said “you-you were the third on my list”

Happiness

Ripped jacket with the stains on the surface.
He was the kid that everyone was happy they weren’t.
Sitting alone invisible to every passing person.
Wondering what it would feel like to have a purpose
He never had a childhood.
Forced to parent his own parents like no child should.
His father is a veteran drowning his memories with liquor
and his mother’s taking pills that doctors give her but they only make her sicker
with no sibling to walk through this stuff.
No ends, no money, no friends, no buddies, he’s ain’t talking enough.
He don’t put himself out there, he’s awkward too much.
But what you expect? Who in his life would he learn confidence from?
And he sits behind me in class.
One day I heard crying from the back.
Finally I turned around and I asked
what was wrong.
And the firs time I heard his voice,
he said “all I know is pain, if this is life, what’s the point?
Show me where happinesses is…

His voice gloomy he looked through me he said show me where happinesses is.
Desperateness on his face.
I didn’t know what to say.
I couldn’t think.
Show me where happinesses is.
He put his head down
and he didn’t make a sound.
Show me where happinesses is.
And I just froze
Like I don’t even know…

Perfect makeup even though she don’t need the extra touch.
She was the girl that every other girl was jealous of.
Silky hair, blue eyes, thin body with
curves, but her new clothes only cover parts of it.
She’s almost looked at like a goddess to all.
Attracts every pair of eyes when she walks through the hall.
But she’s likable too, she’s not the one to gossip.
Evident when you talk to her, she ain’t ever pompous.
Wealthy home filled with knowledge and newness.
She was the youngest out of 3 book smart students.
And her parents were so proud, pride was all around her.
But I always noticed something was a little off about her.
She sits in front of me in class.
One day I noticed heavy make up on her wrist when she passed papers back.
After class, I approached her and I asked about it.
She said it don’t mean I have it if I’m around it
Show me where happiness is…

I looked into her eyes
I saw her for the first time.
Show me where happiness is.
I saw regret
She walked away in a sec
Her voice rang through my head.
Show me where happiness is.
I watched her walk away
She became another face
What she say?
Show me where happiness is
And I just froze.
Like I don’t even know

I don’t know because I ask myself the same thing every single day.
But every single answer has been vague.
How come some appreciate the sun after the rain,
While others just see the puddles as if nothing has changed?
And as I watch people living the life I couldn’t take, I wonder if they see a way out to mentally.
And As I watch people who live the life I idolize, I wonder what they feel and what isn’t seen.
As I watch my whole family take pills for depression I wonder what true happiness really means.
I wonder if because I’m genetically predisposed to it, that is the reason I find myself feeling weak.
Only sometimes, in and out.
I guess it’s scarier when you don’t have a reason to be feeling down.
Sometimes I just am.
Sometimes I just feel no one will understand.
Sometimes I wanna cry.
Sometimes I want to crush my family’s so-called medication look in their eyes
And tell them they don’t need it as long we just have each other.
But then sometimes I watch them suffer.
I just wonder where happiness is.

Waist Down (Extended Version)

Back in the day, all anyone did was overlook me. Now, when they look down, they tryna’ pass the crown to where it should be.
Define a rookie.
Define it. I’ve been a boss since 13. No wonder why no one understood me.
All goodie.
All gravy.
Y’all say we’ve gone crazy, but we ain’t gone anywhere.
Except the places that pay me
Where everybody just praise me
So if you ain’t with A-team
You can suck a dick, get rabies, and then die.
Yea, right there.
I got a new idea.
I got a brand-new idea for you my dear.
If you don’t like being called stupid, stop being stupid, ’cause I’ma’ fucking call you stupid if you do that there.
Yea, I got some rappers confidence
For every fake fan with a backwards complement.
Master actors who matter not a bit.
Bomb has been set, detonation approximately now.

Hook:
And I’ve been plotting on the low.
But I don’t really want to keep it on the low no more.
So I’ma’ need all of your hands in the air the goddamn second that I decide I want to go on tour.
Saying I don’t give a fuck.
I don’t give a fuck like I’m paralyzed from the waist down.
Waist down. Waist down. Waist down.
Saying I don’t give a fuck.
I don’t give a fuck like I’m paralyzed from the waist down.
Waist down. Waist down. Waist down.

Way down to rockbottom I send y’all. Token is a genius.
I don’t give a fuck; I’m on some paraplegic shit.
You feel me? I ain’t feeling y’all.
I got no feeling in my legs, wheelchairs I pop a wheelie on.
I am really on.
17 and I got funders with their hands out talking ’bout a million.
But I don’t take no handouts off air.
You don’t need to scratch my back; I got me a massage chair.
That’s right. Everybody act like they’re living the exact life.
Everybody tryna’ be like everybody, no one tryna’ be an individual and that’s like
getting a flashlight to mask light.
A blackeye to have sight.
A bad guy to act nice.
A traffic light to crash bikes.
An appetite to snack light.
An afterlife to flatline.
A rabbi to baptize.
And bragging on the Internet just means you got a fake ego filled with insecurities killing you and that’s why…
Hook

Oh, is that so?
The second I start having fun, Token’s an asshole.
They said I be doing the same shit, everybody wants something that’s new now, well right when I change it up, I’m whack though.
Oh, that makes sense, I got it.
Everybody have some fun, except the artist.
Everybody loved me when I recorded out of the closet
than a blog picked it up, yep, that’s garbage. Oh. I got some rappers confidence to every fake fan with a backwards compliment.
You think I slid that line in there with no consciousness?
I see the fake fans, I’m who they want a problem with.
Like I ain’t giving my all to this
when I am trying to alter this
questioning all of my motives when I’m just trying to make momma rich.
And I just want to see daddy happy, they just want to see bars and shit.
Consequence calling this confidence cockiness, God forbid.
God forbid I’m comfortable enough to switch the scene.
Sometimes I don’t want to walk down a little street.
With metaphor metamorphosis and similar similes.
Sometimes I want to fuck around dawg, I’m seventeen.
Sometimes I don’t want to be serious. Sometimes I don’t want to be Mr. Lyricist. Sometimes I wonder why they judge me. Sometimes I want to put a jet engine on a wheelchair ’cause I think it’s fucking funny.
And now they’re wondering if I’m still really that hungry.
They’re wondering if I’m getting comfortable, I feel on comfortable ’cause a second ago you motherfuckers loved me.
And I’ve been working harder than ever to get to the next level of flights.
You’re either afraid to let me go or you’re afraid of heights.
Waist down, waist down.
Let me spit a simple hook for everyone who ain’t staying around.
They want me to pigeonhole myself and fall. Show me where happinesses ’cause, it ain’t with y’all.

Necessary Evil

Jesus Christ, I can see in his eyes that he’s conniving.
I’ll be defiant till achieving highness like Leonidas.
I speak my mind and these demons are preaching silence.
You’re marketed like the industry’s slut, and I’ma treat you like it.
Get slapped up.
Kiss ass chump.
Get snatched up
for trying to distract us.
Distracted this.
I’ll bury you, that’s established.
You know the shit that make you think that your shit’s whack? Well, this that shit.
Ditch that shit.
You’ll never create a legacy.
You’re the lamest lame will ever be.
They want me to name an enemy
but why would I end a career they ain’t even start yet? That’s a waste of energy.
Pay attention; we create our pedigree
While they especially are praying desperately to cage us mentally.
They eventually will taste the recipe of crazy tendencies
so page the deputy.
I’ll make sure they will credit me

Chorus:
When the sky falls down.
When the clouds on the ground I’ll be in the studio making the sound to it.
How could this be?
I’m the necessary evil when you’re telling all your people ’bout me.

And we don’t fuck around.
You don’t actually burn calories when you go run your mouth.
So why you sweating so hard?
I am the underground.
They see the roots in me.
They root for me.
My routine is being the rude teen.
Who’s he? “Token” I’m different than you chumps though.
Do I brag about money, clothes, dugs, hoes, while musically losing control?
Do I perform a 30 minute set while only using one flow?
Fuck no!
That’s where I draw the line.
They’re loving the intellectual homicide.
Only really care about the dollar signs.
Anyone who is gullible qualifies.
They colonize all your minds and occupy each thought they find.
Everybody looking like a puppet to me but everyone too stupid to see it; I’m not surprised, nah.
I am the stop to this.
I am the prophet not only intent on profiting.
But still psycho to my psychologist.
He said the only person fit to battle me is my second personality,
so I bodied him.

Chorus

Token is a visionary in a fairly twisted, scary, scripted parody.
And he carries emissaries fit to bury sissy fairies
in the very cemetery he’s getting married to the dictionary at.
That’s how he kills canaries – Bla!
I kill a rival on arrival.
Ever since I went viral they call me vile.
And I don’t use the word faggot anymore ’cause critics twist my words into a spiral.
Just tell them I’m feeling homo-cidal.
I don’t know polite.
Man I’m telling you rappers, you don’t need to keep up, you can look at me like a poltergeist.
If you need a ghost to write.
I’ll blow your mind.
If you don’t, I’ll blow your mind.
I ought to make them an ultimatum.
They automate them and control what they say.
That controls what you think. That’s controlling your day.
That’s controlling your life.
So cut your strings; I’ll show you the knife.
We’re needed in this game; I don’t give a fuck if they like it.

Chorus

Still No Sucka MCs

Every beat that is given to me I flip on like a acrobat ’cause I’m mad when I’m told
that a whack ass rapper’s stacking the dough.
When his Cadillac is passing my road,
I’ll smash the glass with a hatchet I hold.
You get asthma attack when you’re jacking my flow.
This black-on-black so fashionable.
Every rap is crack, got that for the low.
“Man I’m tired of this kid he doesn’t even have bars, he can just rap fast.”
Yo, who are you kidding?
The future you witnessed.
The fruits of my labor are food for the village.
No room for assistance.
They say the body’s a temple, I body musical gimmicks, so that’s my newest religion –
Confusing the thinking of Jews and the Christians.
No lunatic can just assume my position.
No lucrative business can ruin my vision.
What I institute’s on YouTube in an instant.
When I’m introduced, I chuck the deuce to your interests.
Fuck an opinion, I got homework and stuff.
My physics teacher is a babe, I gotta get that shit over and done.
See it in your eyes, you rappers nervous when Token’ll come.
Hands so sweaty they can’t even hold any grudge.
“They don’t give a damn.”
Middle finger to anyone trying to control me. My team isn’t big but we’re handling everything. People around me can see I’m a businessman.
But I don’t rock a suit with a tie, I keep it minimal.
Only suspender I know is my middle school principal.
Forming these syllables-
sort of a ritual.
You’re more normal and typical than brainstorms formed by Jersey Shore’s whores with poor morals and principles.
I adore gore; therefore, absorb more horrorcore war than corporals and generals.
They just know I’m focused.
Ironic how my train of thought has loco-motives.
“Oh shit.”
If that’s over your head than hold the phone kid.
I got them yelling “holy smokes” like Catholics at the Vatican when the pope is chosen.
“Woah!”
Shhh
“Woah.”
I do it with ease.
But I’ve been working my ass off since I was new in my teens.
And to anybody who say I’m only buzzing ’cause I’m young, you’re just mad that you’re an adult and you still can’t do it like me.
I see the jealousy up in you.
Look at the hate in the comments, I see the low self-esteem up in you.
I see you making like any comparison barely with evidence sneaking around like you really ain’t dissing me but I see the enemy up in.
Then I realized

Hook:
Gangsters used to move ounces and reach for burners.
Now gangsters only move mouses and reach for cursors.
Nah, they ain’t worth it.
All around your studio I’ll be lurking,
waiting for you to slip so I can close the curtain.
You’re the bible to atheists.
You’re the rifle to pacifists.
I went viral by accident, wait till I do it on purpose.
Man it’s Token

No Sucka MCs Contest

I was at my crib alone
scrambling through comments
and with in the process,
ran into this contest
like “pretty dope”.
I aint done this shit in a minute bro
and I ain’t doing anymore fucking microphone videos.
I’ll switch your hopes.
Everybody giving out a mixtape so?
I don’t ever really want to listen though.
I’ll be treating it like a discus bro.
I hit the goal.
The trash compactor.
When they be telling my homies to listen to it I say we can’t do it without a bucket in case we pee ourselves out of laughter.
When you record it’s a brutal listen.
Sounding similar to any new born with a booster missing
in a new porsh going through the limit
with two doors going to the ceiling
with a huge horn that blew your hearing.
What you’ve worn is true religion
and new Jordan’s and Gucci fitteds
but a uniform that’s truly fitting
is a unicorn with a fruit addiction.
You’re too corny like a superstition.
You new dorks not cool with writtens.
You’re luke warm like a pool with children.
I do snores when you are spitting.
When you perform I’m too board like crucifixion
Fiction or fact?
I’m fixing to fix some friction and flick to feminine fibbers till they’re figiting back.
And while I’m configuring that,
I fit the friskyous filth in a track
and leave it on top of your door step like shit that’s on fire.
The rap messiah.
The pathological rapping liar.
Dope. I’m that supplier.
Listen I don’t even sweat when I pass a fire.
Pacifier you suck on while you crap your diapers.
You little baby, and I hate these artist’s groupies.
‘Cause I don’t got any man I’m too strange, bizarre and goofy.
They’re like “The way he swears so hard confuse me.
Less than a month ago he wasn’t even allowed in rated R movies”.
Well I am now, damn right.
Everybody get out of my damn sight.
‘Cause the second I’m witnessing anybody I don’t really wanna battle but I wanna see a damn fight.
Damn right.
Until the XXL cover will set it up,
I’m a junior now, I’ll fuck a freshman up.
Yup, I bust.
You bite my lyrics you bite the dust.
I got this game in my clutch.
The alphabet is my crutch.
That’s my sick is spelled with an “I” and suck is spelt with “U”.
‘Cause I am sick and you suck I’m better than you.
Kato!

Hook:
And I ain’t done this in a minute.
I’ve been staying quiet to surprise them when I finish.
But word round the town
is they heard bout me now
so I turn back around and they bit it.
Oh no they didn’t!
I’mma lose it. I’mma lose it.
Since 14 I was a nuisance, I’ve been tying the noose since.
New sense to the industry luckily.
And no sucker MC’s gon’be fucking with me, god dammit no!

Stay Humble & Stop Thinking

During the past months a couple hidden characters have been revealed to me.
They claim they support, so to speak up I didn’t feel the need.
But I noticed they’re only supporting to get closer.
Knives closer to my back, I’m awaiting stabs from a vulture.
You start building a team and then bang it’ll hit you,
a little bit success causes way bigger issues.
‘Cause everybody got their own ideas, thinking differently
and now, me being skeptical is lack of humility.
Like “you think you’re always right, listen to others during a meeting.”
Then I find myself working on something I do not believe in.
If I disagree I’m closed minded?
No I just know what fucking got me here and that was my ideas with no cosigning.
So independent I said I would not adjust.
But it’s hard to be confident when everyone implying my ideas are not enough.
They think I’m naive when I ain’t looking for help.
Now that things are moving everyone’s assuming I’m full of myself.
I’ve been painted a fool.
I’ve been playing it cool
but I still got confidence issues from being isolated in school.
I get on stage, and I blow them all away then
I get off stage and I can’t even hold a conversation.
I hate it.
And they’re telling me to watch my ego.
And I respond like “yeah man, I feel you man, I got you yo, you’re my people.”
Get the fuck out of my face. I got no one helping me.
They don’t want to see me humble, people just want to see me with a lower self-esteem.

HOOK:

They wanna take my mind.
They wanna breathe my breath.
Everybody want a piece.
Till no peace is left.
They wanna control my actions.
They wanna taint my soul.
They wanna flaunt their power.
Anything to get somebody independent with tremendous potential of growth and a talent to stop thinking on his own.

I had a meeting in LA.
It was sure my pleasure.
He put a contract in front of me.
For the first time ever.
I had some questions.
My manager had some concerns.
When he saw that we were thinking for ourselves, he got offended, threatened my career and said that there is nothing I deserve.
My stomach was in turns.
Thinking that this is someone who work in the industry but they turned to my enemy
like that person was in my reach, but I just inferred
from what he said, now that was a bridge I fucked around and burnt.
But that was the plan.
Make me feel guilty then ask for his hand.
But in reality, if I had agreed he probably would have fucked me over and wouldn’t give half of a damn.
But now I understand.
Fuck the frauds and fuck the scams.
Fuck the grands you promise to throw me.
Fuck your plans, you want to control me.
I see the greed in your eyes turning prominent slowly.
And now I gotta look for the same within all of my homies. I know…

HOOK

Now I’m looking at my circle.
Wondering their motives.
How many people jumped in
When the numbers starting growing?
Look at these new faces.
A lot that I can tell.
Most of them only starting talking to me when shit was getting serious so what is truly the reason they want to give me help?
Before any of this shit begun happening fast.
Nobody gave a shit about me and mater of fact,
half the people smiling in my face used to be talking shit about a Jewish kid claiming he had a passion to rap.
What happened to that?
Ordinarily I would’ve even care, let them help, if I appeal then were great.
But when I’m granted the help, I don’t handle it well ’cause I can’t even tell all the real from the fake.
But it ain’t only them who be trying so bad to get to me.
What do you do when your dudes from day one start acting differently?
Are they changing or is it just paranoia that’s within me?
And now I gotta analyze everybody I call a friend.
‘Cause I feel like everybody breathing down my neck is looking for success that I haven’t even gotten get.

Till It's Gone Remix

Welcome to the interior of one of the most hardest working minds that today continues
to be devoted to what he does and with a problem with anyone who ain’t contribute.
Not to mention a lyrical artillery and when the shit begins it ain’t gon’ miss you.
Most fast rappers can’t rap but luckily for him, both of them ain’t an issue.
I’m back on my shit again.
Ready for a battle, attack like the Minutemen
matched with the fact that the black that I have is simply a metaphor for the sadness I’m giving them.
Fast, I’ve been rapping way past what you’re thinking friend.
I had mixtape tracks in my fifth grade class, I was killing then.
Flashback to the fat backpack that I stashed that shit up in.
Trash that, spit again.
The mentality that a dude had, you had half ass intellect.
But I don’t give a rat’s ass, I’m the bee’s knees, see me when you have that internet.
Every last frat rap slash whack ass pack that has slack kill them dead.
My 16s get them hit, you’re like the 16th president, ’cause you’re innocent.
I’m an intricate knife getting inside literally anyone getting away with living a lie.
I’ll hit them within a minute, finna be witnessing a menus in disguise.
Sicker than anyone giving a lyric and sick in the mind.
I’m the literal definition of unmimicable.
Kid is the divine, witness it within my eyes.
They see me getting rid of any competition of mine.
They know I’m making a fool out of
them kicking a rhyme.
You are different than I.
Every day my brain is working to create a state a purpose,

change the way you may observe it.
Today my place of worship is the place I lay my verse and
hate became my rage, it made me flourish,

now I put the rage in courage
till it ain’t occurring.
This page I drain the pain I’ve gained through anger’s burdens.
When the flames is burning,
I break my chains and slay restraints this game has made ’cause ain’t no way they’ll stay and take my brain

this game obtains the frame of a deranged yet famous circus.
Clowns running around for an entertainment purpose.
But the leader just trying to make you purchase.
This industry is raising little pets.
Rather give you drank and cigarettes than brain and intellect.
Got me hating my generation like Kardashian’s photoshopped ass that breaks the internet.
You can save that shit, I’ve got a brain.
Now when it’s real rap it’s a holiday.
Ain’t where I should be but I’m on my way.
Making noise from the side like pocket change.
You’re best rapper alive list? Full of shit.
I’m the bullet in you’re bulletin.
They don’t want a youngin to be good with this.
But I think outside of the box that they put me in.
I’m working at my leisure
when I’m turning on a speaker
I’ll be lurking as a creature
when I burn them like a heater
and I murder like the Reaper
as I’m murking every feature
I’ll be learning from a teacher
but I’m serving like a leader.
I’m urging and I’m eager
to be heard of as a speaker
of the words and the demeanor
of a worker with no breather
’cause a verse without my ether
is a church without a preacher
and I’m earning but my service for the person in the bleacher.
So I give a damn salute to
each friend that’s new to this plan.
Understand you handed me this and man I can’t refuse you.
And until I’m banned from YouTube,
the raps that I record will snap your spine cord and literally have your ass handed to you.
Rise against me, I would like to just see
you try to get on my level whenever you’re rhyming simply.
Everybody be talking that shit when I get gritty
but I’m better than anyone rapping who tried to diss me.
I define the grizzly-grind of 50
when he was trying to shine or die trying, this be
why I write this quickly.
Motivation is what I’m kind of sending, you’re condescending.
When I write these writtens,
I combine Einstein’s mind with science fiction.
Mix the liberal mind of Brian griffin with violent thinking like pirate ships with living by a rhyme religion with giant visions, virus sickness, psychic thinking.
Lines so vivid guys and women picture my words like hieroglyphics
’cause I’m the shit.

Doozy

When it comes to the way I act bro, got the backbone, not the traps though.
Fans know with the rap flows got a crap-load.
Ammo like I’m Castro when he had foes. That go like a gat go, blblblblblblat BO!
Ya, so, at my last show, in the back row,
bad hoes. Tried to grab those like a lasso. That goal never has sold ’cause I’m bashful.
That’s no fucking fact though, I’m an asshole.
See little weirdo,
I don’t get what you’re trying to be little weird.
Everything you send me I don’t read little weirdo.
With the way I’m living I don’t need little weirdos.
Oh, and you trying to be calling me little weirdo?
Oh! You a mean little weirdo.
Need therapy little weirdo.
I don’t really give a little mini shit about any of these little weirdos.
Rappers always walk up to me in the show venue,
ask me for a feature I tell them sir no thank you.
I should just be honest, I don’t mean to offend you.
But you should probably get better before I molest you.
I got the flows and the patterns to make a rapper lose control of his bladder.
A soaking wet mattress with piss on the sheet, do this religiously, tell the pope and the pastor.
And most of these rappers are jokes and I have to just hold in the laughter like what?Yea, what?
How the fuck you suck that much?
Oh, I got a pretty fan waiting in the sprinter van, dumber than a brick and man, I don’t really give a damn.
She want me to give a damn follow on the Instagram.
Baby that’s a big demand for a little little tramp.
Woah, now she calling me a prick again? Really man?
Tell her suck a dick like it wasn’t already in her plans, in advance.
All the Jewish 80-year-old women that my grandma be,
showing all my music to is gon’ hear that profanity
and think that I did it just to embarrass my family.
Ugh. I’m sorry yo, I’m awful I know. Shabbat shalom.
You can tell I got the Jewish awkward nose.
What the fuck is up with that I’m obnoxious bone?
Look at the amount that my nostrils hold.
None of you motherfuckers are strong as those.
I got a bodybuilder on my face!
Step to me, I’ll smell you from miles away.
Eureka! You reek of
weak talent that needs practice
and cheap fabric that needs fashion
extreme yapping that needs action
and mean bragging that needs action.
You reek of sadnesses.
I reek of savage.
You reek of has-been.
I reek havoc.
Look, performing when the moons out, meetings during the daytime.
I sat down with Genius, they sat down with one at the same time.
I broke down my lyrics, I’m the only one that can break mine.
I broke down the barriers of a kid living a man’s life.
Damn right.
Give me a couple of years and standby.
I’ll transcribe, every single one of my thoughts into a franchise.
At 17 I told the label that I grew up listening to that I can’t sign.
They don’t want me to sound underground, well they don’t know I’m a landline.
Boom.
Blow up in their face. Woah, hold up a minute.
You said I said that I’m a fan, no the fuck I didn’t.
No the fuck I did it.
You got shit to work on, before I can say it. You’re putting words in my mouth, just ’cause nobody will ever put your words in their playlist.
I spit a flow and everyone gets quiet out of amazement.
You spit a flow they get quiet ’cause everyone hates it.
You will never work in the booth with me, don’t get frustrated.
I barely do features ’cause I can only record butt naked.
Facts.
So next time you ask for a feature I’ll assume that you’re asking to see my ass.
I’ll pass.
That is my best feature by the way.
I just taught the teacher how to learn and preacher how to pray.
There’s levels to this shit.
I jump to get mine.
I’m the ultimate newer entrepreneur, you’re looking old and done with your life.
You could fit a bucket of fries, a couple of knives and often supplies in the bags under your eyes.
To be honest I only really be going fast for everybody that be telling me that it’s stupid.
Because I don’t really want to do it but I kind of want to do it only because they really don’t want me to do it, so I’ma do it.
They tryna be biting me but I don’t even think that they can chew it.
If you can do it, then motherfucker prove it.
I want to see it, I want to see it, I want to believe it,
but you’re deceiving, I see it.
I see your secret, I see it.
I don’t really want to be the one to leak it.
Fuck it man I kind of want to be the one to leak it.
Every time that you’re copying someone or recycling yourself I can tell you got no confidence that is needed.
I’ll never say I’m fearing ya
when I’m putting divine fear in ya.
You’ll always be my inferior.
You fit the criteria, bitch.
Calm down. Goddamnit.
I tend to lose my cool when they call me hotheaded.
Oh did I break your equipment? I’m sorry. Next time you threaten to sue me just do it I want someone to diss.
I want someone to quit.
Just because what I spit
made them cry like a bitch.
Tell the captains recruit me.
I’ll take a passionate dookie
on every rapper that knew me
then I’m back to the studi like that was a doozy.
Goodbye!

From The Ground Up

Verse 1:
Token be the newest out.
Music’s juvenile, but you the student who gets tutored now.
Dudes assume I’ll use the crown like a root canal.
And Massachusetts proud.
I’m the weapon of “mass” destruction Bush was fronting like he knew about.
Who want to fool around?
I’m full of rounds to shoot you down my tongue licks shots to the public.
View the sound, hip-hop is now coming.
Run circles around you till I’m losing pounds like pick-pockets in London.
I stand out when I’m styling out.
Outstanding, I stand up so they understand when I astound the crowd.
Confident enough to go bar for bar and sound for sound.
Just don’t sweat the technique, you’ll fuck around and drown.
Each contest today I’m coming hard
for chains back to back like slaves on Amastad.
You’re plain like kamikazes, you crash. See, I’m back.
Token is the change this game needs to have.

Hook:
I’ve been working all day, I’ve been working all night, I ain’t even leave the room once.
Y’all would’ve thought I got scolded by now but we only allow positivity around us.
From the ground up, I’ll be at home building.
No limits, we define our ceilings.
Love is inevitable and hate is unavoidable but ask them hip-hop heads how they feeling. We good.

Verse 2:
The flow so slick.
Those old foes who chose to throw blows slip.
’cause Toke’s flow so cold quotes froze most home floors those foes go in.
“Oh shit! Yo it’s the bro that the homies were posting.
I noticed the logo and most of his quotables over my dome but don’t give no shits.”
Low and behold if I’m holding your focus I’m also controlling your soul that is so any moment you don’t give me focus your soul will opened
and broken in two.
I’ll rip out your soul, use it as the soul for my shoe, and kick your scrotum with boots.
Nah I ain’t older than you, still you know I could
be out-rapping you without rapping, you just know what’s good.
A genius mentally, needs my victories.
He could speak and reach the peak infinity,
breathe and see it seep beneath his feet, physically.
Each enemy sneak-dissing me sees misery.
Bleak dignity-
each speech he leaks be the epitome.

Hook

Threat

Verse 1:
Token is a total mind fuck.
A youngin in this game shouldn’t be performing in night clubs.
A youngin in this game shouldn’t be constructing the thoughts he does.
A youngin in this game shouldn’t be this better than all of us.
They don’t wanna book me for a set.
They just want me to take the role of a rookie, but instead
I kept on grinding and each day took me another step.
And now all those mother fuckers just look at me like a threat.
And I am, god dammit I am, listen and like it.
Spit like a hybrid of a militant violent lyrical tyrant mixed with Goliath since I’m a giant think like a psychic ending this crisis behead em with my spit quicker than Isis.
I make English my bitch in the booth.
Literacy’s literally limiting to a living listening linguist licking the lips of the truth.
And if I put on a mask, didn’t show who I was, I’d be an artist you strive to be similar to.
But I’m a

Hook:
T
Taking over getting more popular lately.
H
Horrified when you see it so you go and blame me.
R
Reality proving you’re just mad that you’re ain’t me.
E, A, T.
Yea, I know why you hate me, I’m a threat.
Threatening your career with my mental.
You’re just mad ’cause you’re afraid of my potential.
I got a whole crew behind me and you look weak.
‘Cause you’re scared and you should be.

Verse 2:
I show and I prove that I’m doper than you with the flow that I do and the quotables too.
Every moment I’m choosing to go in the booth I’m patrolling the truth and opponents like you will go over the roof.
And they’re totally confused being older assuming that Token is new.
Yea but Token been doing this longer than you.
Every clone I produce will get broken in two.
‘Cause I am the only, the centerpiece.
No one’s ahead of me.
Grow exponentially.
Foes and the enemies
Frozen with jealousy.
Overdose from the potent melodies.
Like dope, heroin,
Coke, LSD,
Promethazine.
Don’t step to me.
Your pedigree’s
Slow you know I blow your dome, Jon Kennedy.
See, I’m puppeteer you’re the puppet.
It’s my plan to petrify I piss off pears till they plummet.
You’ll hear that I’m buzzing the years to be coming it’s clear I ain’t fronting.
I’m from Salem, MA where we’re weird and we love it.
I am Mass’s mastermind.
I out rap every platinum rapper signed to pass the time.
You’re mad but mad inclined.
So for this year’s Halloween I’ma wear the Token shirt and really catch some eyes.
I’m a…

Hook

Definition Of A Rap Flow

Definition of a rap flow.
I’ll give it a stab. Get them all mad when I shit on a track

’cause I’m an ignorant asshole.
Middle finger as big as my fat nose.

I’m killing the mass more than who’s shipping tobacco.
Writtens will stack so
each syllable’s amo.
I’m sicking the whack ’cause I’m sick and a whacko.
You’re like sixty, you’re mad old.
I’m sixteen, but when I’m spitting women tell the kiddies that dad’s home.
Some of these spitters be spitting this syllabic shit that I’m spitting this minute but when they be spitting it isn’t descriptive.
Never saying shit in the lyric, they just spit it to spit it.

You miserable ass, your shit isn’t that dope.
You mimic my tracks so I’m killing you cats like dinner for japs, woah.
You’re a stick on the grass.
You used to be getting big in the past
but you slipped and collapsed
and it’s impossible to whiteness a stick on the grass grow.
That metaphor was too quick to get that “oh!”.
But I get it right back,
while you sit on your ass on twitter to have posts like
“I’m so underrated but I’m killing my raps so
dope you can it hit it and pass yo!”
You’re old fans are kissing my ass bro.
I saw them and grabbed them with my lyrical lasso.
And now I got a clique, what clique do you have? Nope!
You’re out numbered like Mitt to Barack votes.
Your intelect mad slow, I’m thinking it fast.
Give me the pass.
I’m bringing the lyrical back,
killing for Mass.
Think of a track,
scribble it quick in a pad.
It’s an attack.
‘Finna be mad
big in the map.
You’re ‘finna be living in shacks
I’m ‘finna be living in castles.
Who’s spitting this rad yo?
That’s how to get straight like the shit was an afro.
I told myself I would change the sceme but I got so many rhymes, my mind is an infinite capsule.
A riveting, limitless, diligent, intricate, disciplined, militant, sickening, venomous,  instrument finishing inequivalent, mimicking, innocent, primitive, feminine, hypocrite, simpleton citizens. This kid is the last hope.
‘Cause rap’s looking like an idiot’s bad joke.
So it’s my duty to hit the tip of the flagpole
while simultaneously getting you to trip through the trap door.
So step up your game or quit ’cause can’t flow.

Talk To You

VERSE 1:
Innocent girl on Instagram flipping the bird.
Perking lips with her curves, showing more skin than her shirt.
And she’s beautiful, but half naked, I wonder why.
But what the hell can I tell her yo? She just passed a hundred likes.
A false percentage of people who appear like they care enough about her.
When in reality they’re just thinking “I’d love to plow her.
In a couple hours I’ll text her. I’m gon’ allow her
to come to our house on the couch and maybe get up her trousers."
Hell, I liked too but I’m brainwashed by this pic.
I barely know her but something tells me hang on, she’s different.
Maybe she is and she hides behind her lipstick.
Or maybe it’s just mans’ mentality, and I’m just tryna’ get it.
I don’t know. To me she’s screaming help me and I hear her.
I know she’s more than that reflection in that mirror.
And her and I both know they don’t see more than body.
If I’m coming on too strong please stop me but
I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
Open your mind I wanna see what’s on it too.
Lets rendezvous
’cause I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
Girl, I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
I’m just, I’m just…

HOOK:
I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
I know you probably think I’m lying ’cause each time you unwind with a guy both his eyes on your body, ooh.
I ain’t denying your beauty I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
I know you probably think I’m lying ’cause no guy made you feel like you’re divine so your mind kind of thought it too.
I see you’re different girl I’m just tryna’ talk.

VERSE 2:
Girl, why the hell you do that? What you thinking today?
What? You’re missing a feeling or you can’t get one away?
Those pictures where you’re stripping really stripping your innocent name.
You think those Instagram filters will filter your pain?
Hey, maybe it ain’t pain, you just want more attention there for sure.
Even though that attention ain’t commending your character.
It’s commending your outfit. A little girl but with all that.
They’ll hit it first, never call back.
It’s just physical, you don’t want that!
Or maybe you do, maybe I’m out of line
’cause when I’m out online, it appears as though you’re down tonight.
I count the likes and count the comments calling you crazy hot.
Quickly compare ’em to dudes with aim to talk, it ain’t a lot.
Your beauty is vivid enough to cover up.
And your mind is smart enough to understand what’s not love.
And no, I ain’t perfect.
But right now, compared to them, my actions might hold a strange purpose ’cause I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
Open your mind I wanna see what’s on it too.
Lets rendezvous
’cause I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
Girl, I’m just tryna’ talk to you.
I’m just, I’m just…
Hook

Jurassic Cypher

September 24th, 1998 was the time that Satan tried awaking a beast out of its hibernation.
The beast comprised of patience finally escaped the whom,
It held an umbilical cord connected to a mic and raised it high and stated,
Thou shall address me as Token.
Though shall respect me as an MC and accept me as the best even if everyone neglects I am ready ’cause if any shall upset me thou shall never be woken.
I am the peak to praise, I push the pinnacle of product.
Every point polished, no principles a problem.
I’m priceless. You pussies pretend,

but you’re piss poor from picking out your Prada.
You’re pitiful, play possum.
And shut your fucking lips through your jaw bone.
You got an issue get a tissue and sob bro.
I’m the shit to a hot load
I’m sick to a small cold
Ain’t with you, I’m Bigfoot to lawn gnomes.
Got big news I just choose to not boast.
You got misused bars like pitbulls have barks
and Hindus have Gods
and igloos have frost
and kids using smart phones.
That’s a lot yo. I don’t ball so hard, don’t need to be.
Motherfuckers want to fine me like I parked my car illegally.
Dropping bars trying to knock me off is like Hanukkah during the Holocaust when the Nazis called repeatedly.
I’m nodding off, in need of sleep.
But I can’t stop at all, got bars and bars in need of beats.
My mama called, she said stop and talk with meaning geez!
But fuck it, I’ve become a phenomenon for evil teens.
15, yeah my fam is proud you guessed it.
Until they heard my songs and they put me up on craigslist.
So go get Token Takeover trending up on the blogs.
Hashtag it after your tweet about nothing at all.
Fuck it, don’t call me dumb minded when the leader of the NRA doesn’t blame guns for gun violence.
And while they’re blaming hip-hop
I’m gaining amazing relationships with no hate straight from hip-hop, it’s all love.

Hard White Remix

Lyrical villainy’s given epitome is officially finishing killing spree.
Sickening enemies and isn’t a mystery his victory’s imminent history.
Fitness agility isn’t shit to mental energy, it is a disability.
‘Cause I witnessed an epiphany-
mind over matter, gain mental ability.
It’s mind over pressure. Mind over pleasure.
Bash you in your mind if your mind don’t remember
that mine’s only clever.
So when it comes to music, I rather spend time over cheddar.
I’m better than I’ve ever been. You don’t feel me
’cause I’m officially better than you ever will be.
I’m filthy, you’re no one special.
Couldn’t stop my growth potential if you killed me.
You’re not impressive you’re called the best hope you got a blessing.
You’re not a small contestant, skin crawls when your jaw is spreading.
The consequence is a palm to peg it and claws to stretch it.
Then meet a blade named pride, you gon’ swallow, get it?
Pardon, I’m not a menus, this just how I solve aggression.
The glob of darkness in my chest you call a heart is shredded.
You’re nothing, you’re a pawn in chess and I’m the king to you.
Or you’re the night, ’cause you take L’s when you’re making moves.
Pay your dudes, this solo shit ain’t the thing for you.
You’re debut got 18 views and they were mainly you.
So go get fucked off a record deal, be the meat to feed ’em.
And I just met with Interscope, they said I don’t even need ’em.
‘Cause I’m spreading by grinding this hard dude.
I’m spreading like I am the cops trying to stop a guy in his car who might have just robbed you.
I’m spreading like I am the cause of viruses strong as Tyson with paws, a knife, and a glock, trying to sock you.
I’m spreading like lying on Fox News.
I’m moving, quicker than expected.
Driven like a Lexus
You thinking you’re the best but I am thinking in a grip that you’ll be living like a peasant.
Killing with a breath like it was stricken with asbestos.
Sicker than a metic who was given no protection when he’s living with some men with the symptoms of a sickness equivalent to death if another kid were to catch it.
Even with it, still my pen is limitless and endless.
We’ve been different since second grade. When you were molding Play doh,
I was studying how Socrates molded Plato.
You bought a knife but I got a sharper dome and they know.
So you’re scared to your bones ’cause you don’t wanna show-da-blade though.
I’m a protégé bro.
You are never gonna get in my zone, okay bro?
The only way you’re serving me is to hold a plate full of spaghetti and bolognese bro.
So I play no games ’cause I came
for the throne as Dayo aims at my frame.
At a show don’t lay no, go insane and they say
I control the stage yo. Stay in your lane
I’m expanding mine. Branding mine.
It’ll blow you away like a dandelion.
Stopping this can just be fantasized.
I’m doper than chemicals in Amanda Byrnes.
Fuck each drug you glamorize.
Glasshouse put together and they’re vandalized.
Not man of crime,
so talk and get the fuck beat out of you by a fan of mine

Young Rap God

I’m beginning to feel like a rap god.
No, fuck that, I’m beginning to feel like everybody rapping is a whack, dawg.
Sound like they smoke too much crack and pot and I’m a crack pot on bath salts.
If you wanna face off, I’ll eat your fucking face off, face it your soft
And I’m hard as metal.
Watch artists tremble.
I’m sharp as the sharpest sharpened pencil.
Raise the bar to stars and mars and vessels.
You’re starting to bark, your bite hardly settled.
Tryna tell everybody you are the devil?
You’re dark as yellow, you’re hard as jello.
You’re smart as a mental retard in a special
kindergarten class who keeps barking “Hello! How are you?!”
Sit the fuck down and listen the fuck up, as a push hard on the pedal.
I’m respecting every legend but I’m tryna be better than everyone,
wrecking Eminem on his own track.
Severing the heads of everybody who’s stepping
bet I be getting a pen and pin ’em down when I get a note pad.
“Oh snap!”
And I am not saying that I’m rapping better because I flow fast.
I’m saying that I’m rapping better ’cause I’m rapping better and you should know that.
Who told your old ass to tell your whole pack that they’re spitting this shit raw?
“Huh?”
Mother fucker I will have you cleaning shit out of your draws while you’re picking up your jaw.
“Hah”
I’m jaw dropping. Like hot pockets, I stick you in a box
called coffins when my songs dropping
like what menopause causing, I’m mood swinging on you all.
Speaking of menopause, you never will be fit to reproduce this.
So I’m telling you men-to-pause, or death is your peace like Grim Reeper’s-deuces.
“Jeez Louise yo who’s this?
He’s fifteen a freaking student?
He don’t even need improvement.”
Team’s the Lethal People movement,
killing with the words.
Fuck everybody else, like I popular drug dealer I’m flipping every bird.
If Em’s the rap god I’m the minister.
When I do it, bet I too am representing everything he’s doing.
You’re developing a deficit you definitely never get the penmanship element present in my music.
I ain’t a human, I’m a mutant, from the moon this, means I’m never down to earth.
So I can’t sound out a verse, without me first, bragging ’bout all my work.
Man, I sound like a jerk.
You don’t wanna hear me bragging ’bout talent you wanna hear me bragging ’bout money like everyone now does, word?
How bout first, I talk about the cars, narcotics, and guns?
Then talk about how struggling a town is in the next line and still give ’em a dollar for funds?
But I’ma’ drop so hot you thought it was pot out the oven and you’ve forgotten your gloves.
Fuck the industry, initially I gotta make a song to a relevant beat just to see you listen to me.
I’m physically turning into beast, but ain’t no beauty in it.
I got acne and some fat cheeks but truth or fiction?
I’m the young rap god, and if so peep the new religion.
Praying to Pac and then I study Eminem
and story telling from Nas and growing the flow of Rakim.
Giving me ridiculous ability of spitting and delivery
so nobody can do it symmetry.
I don’t see any mini-me’s
but it’s not because they don’t wanna copy because they don’t have the ability to spit like me.
You are literally never getting me.
You’re getting close to me, you’re getting closer to a cemetery.
If your aim is bumping into me your brain must struggle mentally.
When I say I don’t “like” you that ain’t a fucking simile.
It’s Token, and you ain’t gon’ see an equal who gon kille this beat.
Rap god.

MKLM Contest

You’re probably ready for another whack entry, well think again.
Bitch, I be sicker than getting my syphilis from a little kid sibling
hence, I’m also sick in the head.
Mental prescriptions, give me my meds
and hope to god the sickness won’t spread.
I’ma switch it like opinions in Mitt Romney’s head.
‘Cause I ain’t drinking a keg, I ain’t gripping a tech,
I don’t live on the edge. I ain’t a hipster I bet,
I’m home watching “Sam & Cat” with my hand on my dick in my bed
scripting with pens, with writtens more vicious than Hitler and his militant men,
depicting imminent death.
You’re more than a little, listen, you’re literally illiterate friend.
You ain’t spitting, you couldn’t spit if you got your uvula
and hit it till it ripped like scissors clipped it to shreds.
We’re different I guess.
I’m a sicko, I’m never giving a(r)rest, like pigs thinking criminals are innocent men.
Yo I’m the type of guy to decapitate your misses and then
give you the head, like Ellen Degeneres licking a les’.
Picture the rap game
getting fucked in the ass by it’s alcoholic dad with the same last name, I’m that man.
Tell me to put a snap back on my head, I’ll snap your head back and laugh like it was a rad prank.
I’m past strange, I’m a class A lunatic.
Proving to you you’re a stupid student that I’m tutoring
the movement the dude’s in my crew peruse in when we’re doing this.
Leaving you running from the bars like a fugitive.
I ain’t new to this, I had a booth in my mom’s uterus.
The ultrasound showed me bumping Shady and Ludacris.
I’m shady and ludicrous, I’m awkward and crazy
so beating you’s like taking candy from an autocratic baby.
You feel me? Bet you feeling boat loads of envy
’cause you feel me like furry walls after smoking a Jeffery.
Mother fucker I’m doper than that shit.
I’m dope with the tongue, similar to dopeness of acid.
See, you are now roaming in thoughts
of a dome that is cold as the snow in Vermont.
Skill is overly over the top.
Spoken and talked with the flow of god.
I‘m complex.
I see you dudes in this contest with no concepts
tryna be “lyrical, lyrical” nonsense.
Either that or you got no lyrical technique,
a so-pitiful pet peeve to those lyrical MC’s.
So typical, so it’s so critical to flow these dope syllable
on my own digital CD.
You’re old as those biblical scrolls
with no pivotal speech, he flow fictional repeats.
When it comes to flow, you flow minimal,
making your own principals. See me?
My flow’s pinnacle, reach me.
I know you can’t. You know it man.
I spit tighter than yoga pants on a fat ass homeless tramp.
I’m colder than a polar bear
shivering like Michael J Fox as an older man after drinking fifty soda cans.
Try to step to this.
You don’t know who you’re fucking with like a blind deaf chick
when she tried sexing after a wine beverage.
But look who got a buzz now.
It’s Token, shout out to Munky Gang for letting me come out.

ABOUT

“I was sitting in my first period precalculus class. I checked my phone and thought I was seeing things. The video had gotten 7,000 views the night before and was up to 100K by the morning. I almost fell out of my chair.” Needless to say, precalc was a wrap for the day.

The video for “No Sucka MCs” earned 17-year-old wunderkind Token his first real burn on the rap blogs. Littered with timely, toothy, subliminal lyrics like “Until the XXL cover will set it up / I’m a junior now, I’ll f*** a freshman up,” the track catapulted Token from provincial problem to national nuisance. Originally submitted to an online rap competition –one of several Token ended up winning– the song has amassed 1.6 million views on YouTube. It was this track that prompted another Massachusetts native who’d gotten his start rhyming, superstar Mark Wahlberg, to take to Twitter and proclaim Token his new favorite rapper. [Read More]

“No Sucka MCs” also prompted iconic hip-hop tastemaker Sway Calloway to invite Token to spit on his influential Sway in the Morning SiriusXM show. “I rehearsed day and night for Sway,” Token reveals. “I wanted it flawless. And I actually prepared about 11 minutes of material, roughly 250 bars. Then, literally the day before, I got the news that I would have about half that time. I had to chop 11 minutes down to like 6, basically overnight. It was nerve-wracking.” Sway’s cohost Tracy G actually broke down in tears with his verse—the video of which has garnered over a million views in a single 24-hour period, and totals more than 5 million views to date. The internet was set aflame by an apparent rap prodigy. A star was born.

Token’s trajectory is unorthodox bordering on inexplicable: “When I was young, doctors and analysts literally told me I can’t put words together like normal people do,” recounts the rapper, real name Ben Goldberg. “That my brain doesn’t have the ability to process language and understand long words. Of course, this is so ironic because this is what I do—how I choose to spend my time.” Token was put into special ed classes and diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and a learning disability.

These outward pivots belied Token’s true nature: “I always felt very different from everyone, always felt disconnected,” he admits. “I was such a thinker as far back as the first grade. I was embarrassed by a lot of what I was feeling and didn’t think people would take me seriously at that age. So I started a diary, like poetry conveying the way I was feeling. I would hide the pad under my bed. It became something I relied on—something I’d look forward to doing.”

Fast forward to the present, and it’s scores of fans who look forward to Token’s writing. The naysaying therapists have been replaced by reams of positive YouTube comments. But don’t get it twisted: despite his pedigree in online cyphers, Token makes it clear he’s built for the flesh: “I’m not just this internet guy. I take time to make sure my live show is dope. I’ve grown a lot and I encourage people to come to my shows to take me in. You don’t know who or what Token is until you see me live.”

Take him in, fans have. In April 2016, he made a run through France, including a performance at the heralded Chorus Festival, alongside rap icons The Pharcyde and current soul/funk phenom Robert Glasper. He returned to the States as the video dropped for his collab with Slaughterhouse flamespitter Joell Ortiz, “Kill at Will.” “This is someone I grew up listening to,” Token reveals. “I have his whole discography. I was listening to him every day, so when he reached out to me, I couldn’t believe it.” Indeed, “Kill at Will” slotted in as the lead single off Joell’s most recent project, That’s Hip-Hop. Meanwhile, kudos and cosigns kept rolling in: from D12, from Fred Durst, from Flo Rida, from fellow MA musician Clinton Sparks. Somewhere along the way, Token attended his junior prom, too.

This seems the stuff of fantasy, not high school yearbook. But Token learned in grade school to be the architect of his own fate. So what seems unattainable to outsiders is simply Ben Goldberg’s fuel: “I hated the way I looked. I went to the doctor and he warned me I was destined for diabetes—just like my dad, and his dad, and his dad before him. So I snuck into the local gym to start exercising; as kind of a big kid, I could get away with it. I lost 50 pounds going into 5th grade. I realized I am blessed with dedication. If I put my mind to something, if I can visualize an end goal, then it’s something I can make happen. So I took the same approach with rap: Every day after school, I would come home, do my homework, then write and record. Every single day. The same is true now. I look at each day as a schedule, as part of a larger plan.”

Token’s hours are now filled with putting the finishing touches on his first full-length project, a forthcoming mixtape: equal parts verbal acrobatics, clever conceptual records, and emotional childhood revelation—the first of which is “Necessary Evil,” courtesy of renowned VA producer Nottz. A boisterous mix of kick and bass, accented by insistent horn lines, serves as Token’s vocal canvas. Look also for “Waist Down,” an irrepressible, high-energy anthem that’s both tongue-twisting and tongue in cheek. Token is likewise sorting out a tour in support of the project.

At only 17, Token is already many things to many people. What’s singular is his drive: “I have a lofty goal; I want to make a living off my passion. Music is what helped me get confidence. Music is my time to be invincible. Even though I’m young, my childhood already feels like a different life, because I’m looking back and writing on it. I’m in love with writing and I’m not going to pigeonhole myself.” [Show Less]