THE NIGGA IN ME IS ME

by SOUL GLO

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  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 39 SRA Records releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.

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released June 7, 2019

cover photo by Ramy Silyan

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Track Name: 22
Emboldened and esteemed by excitement and encouragement, the performance of pain predominates my lifes prospects. Trapped in tragedy, we tragic, I’m terrified. New year, new me, just as empowered as a nigga is powerless. Shoutout to my stolen people, my single tears, my entire seas. Shoutout sweeping separation from the so-called “punk scene,” benefits gigs for presidential bids are clearly only strange to me. Stranger still, my written word is real only when I’m Blacked out for yt to see. The torture told is spun from the gold that all of my stabwounds secrete, like my wasteful wail of “WHAT I AM ISN’T WHO I AM” at every person that I meet. The post-modern peopleplease slamdances sanctimoniously against what it thinks it thinks, its only common enemy aside from all the ones it won’t allow itself to see. In this environment, affectuating emotional exchanges intended to affirm are instead exploitative exercises in ignoring everyone. The imposed invisibility is as equally exhausting as the enthusiasm. The hate begets hate, the love, mistrust. Living numb and loving it in a niche nonplussed!!! Now I’m a jerk and everybody loves me, but you dicks couldn’t give two shits til you could feel like clenching yr fists while they stayed in yr pockets.
Track Name: 32
Been done ready to have the last laugh, but where the fuck was any of yall ass at? Pity and apologies? Nigga we past that, you won’t hear me ask that, hit me on my CashApp. We finna let the blood flow out the wine glass. No more selling off our trauma just to eat trash, or letting you deny the past to swerve the backlash. Every day, I’ve been raising up out the mud. It’s because I had to clean up before I work all of you niggas. Get all yall together, pull the shirt off of you niggas. Taking yall for all yall worth, you fucking pilgrims. We’ve come for our percent, the return on the investment, don’t act like that we aint met. NIGGA I’M TALKING REPARATIONS DO NOT TRY TO FUCKING PLAY ME NIGGA. Nigga you aint no threat. Fuck what any mf nigga said. I said nigga, you aint no threat. Write the shit backward on yr forehead, look at yr reflection and say it one more again. So broke off these loans I’m licking hot sauce off the back of my hand as a snack. The stomach pains feel the same as every panic attack, but I know I shouldn’t talk shit about all that. So self-aware, such empathy, trickle-down indie rock loves rap. White DIY is a fucking dead end path, and yall can have this bullshit back. Emotional assimilation, emotional deprivation. The deadest ass depersonalization, and I’m skipping class in social situations. And all these intentions are an intervention for all of that appreciation. The depreciating weight is just drops in the bucket for me, when I can carve my own space from what yr bodies will leave. But when will you look up from yr feet as yr crossing the street into oncoming traffic just to keep from passing me? What will you do to validate the space that you take?? Or claim??? I can’t quite relate. Goddamit we did it for the culture, just like we did it for the scene. And who we saw most of all was a bunch more niggas talking about “Well, what about me?” Get my young nigga Marquis free, and everybody best believe that I’d take myself off this opening beat and show that though he’s a teen, that nigga better than me. And from whose hand is he even supposed to wrest an opportunity? It’s not like Stereogum, Fact Mag, or Complex are posting visits up in PICC. And for our own resources, of course, online magazines be forcing us to compete. Meanwhile young nigga could be anyfuckingwhere in the state now that he’s 18. All while I have in hand the castles keys, nigga RIP.
Track Name: 21
If you see something, say something. If you say something, do something. If you do something, follow through. Whomst the fuck is arrogant enough to forsake admiration of what they know now to disavow? Do you remember it as what you once avoided fucking thinking about?? But yr ready now to put yr piecemeal in somebody else’s mouth??? Feel great to finally have some grievances to take to the streets to shout!!! But the name of who murdered Korryn Gaines still hasn’t seemed to make it out. Each march and peaceful protest puts the hype in hypothetical. Make dissent more tangible, put the Black back in black bloc. The writing on the wall has never been more legible...
Track Name: noise tracc
we done had the first laugh. but where the fuck was ANY of yall ass at? where was the high ground from which the toil and history was viewed? and the view so clear the ease with which yall could pick out exactly which stories and accomplishments to steal you had enough to ball for generations. where the fuck was yall at? but now, my arms outstretched. like my mothers arms. outstretched like her mothers arms outstretched permanently in position to fire. opened to welcome the searing. a federal facilitation. of the first true day of history
(where is that hill so we can raze it). this is how we will reach the twilight of that day. knowing yet still filth will argue that it creates balance in its way. knowing still. we finna have the last laugh.
Track Name: 31
Them white niggas you fuck with turn tiki torch real quick. When you were crying on the phone to me, did you consider us friends? Saying that his life was in our hands, or were we criminals then? The way I stack my feelings up, Chani asked me what I prioritize. Why is my answer moments of mistrust archived side by side in my mind? I can’t decide. Sink into the floor. We left pieces of ourselves on the side of that road, now I’m supposed to sift through my feelings toward you and the murderous language you spoke? If that cop had taken a further step than just putting his hand on his gun, and shot us right there, we might never know whose side yr really on. Nah, sink into the floor. Who’s yr apology even for? Thinking about this nigga Marvin. Thinking about this nigga Natik. Thinking about this nigga Malique, he spent 9 months in solitary at 17. Thinkin about this nigga Lael. Thinking about this nigga Tyquail. Thinking about this nigga Reneé. I fear most for her everyday. I’m down to step out and engage, ayo, I live around the way. Side up with me, slip in the side of my eye up with me. Guy up to me. Eye up the pie you tryna slice up off me. But what do we have for you?(nothing) Not my priority or my energy, not while I know children in the penitentiary. I won’t treat you mean, I won’t say a thing, but please come up into my house and try me. Please come back up in my mental. Please come back up in my periphery. Niggas not cold as me, and not petty like me, and I’m unsure you really wanna hear from me. All the erasures are yr life’s poetry, in between the fine print, in invisible ink. Fuck how you feel, fuck what you think. You slept too close to my family. And I’ve got no time for a fake ass sorry from an opp who still throws stones at a niggas body. I thought the plan was that a nigga would drop the topic, but if you really want we can fucking talk about it. You know, my mama kinda wanna beat ya ass for this. You a snake fucnigga, you a basilisk. And you at risk of remaining an asterisk. My last gift is my Black ass to kiss.
Track Name: 24
I’m beyond bars, or at least outside under the eye of the overseer. I’m piped up like club drugs consumed by all my peers. I’m out here living young and unrepentant, a perpetual piece of every problem that I aint wearing like a pendant. But if I’m moving loud to pay my student loans, I’m still a dependent, so am I poppin? Am I really even poppin??? Reup, can’t get fucked up enough. Why pay to pipe the drug and not get paid to play the plug? Success and stomach acid sting a nigga tongue the same. You sell 4oz in 1 day you can tell me that crime don’t pay. Don’t tell me you’ll change someday and in the meantime act the same way. Don’t fix yr mouth to lie to my face to try to force me out of feeling played. Actions get explained away, so I’m gonna shut the fuck up, just in case. There’s a benefit gig for nobody, raising residue of middle class money. Could we send those stacks back to the past in neat packs and put them underneath the feet of everybody lynched so they can catch their breath at last? They swing in my mind, singing out across time, sounding off like windchimes, our bloodlines hung from pines burning brighter than the fires behind the bluest eye.
Track Name: 23
Emotional assimilation (is) trauma’s worn, scar-tissued skin, seared by state-sanctioned aspirations. Underneath my will to live clings tight my will to die, the silent secret of my strength is all the shame I’ve centralized. And all the people I see whose suffering’s steeped in dreams of nothing when their eyes close to sleep don’t see the void that they meet as so much more comforting. I dream of nothing when I close my eyes to sleep. Each day awake just lies in wait to shape, in vain, clean breaks away from daily debasement. Engage the escapist, unendingly inaccessible until ingratiated. I dream of nothing but ending my self-defeat. Apparently, my revealings of my injuries are just my manipulative tendency! And these techniques spoken to me about responsibility and integrity are just suffocating, placating sayings placed to efface me but I was taken through the threshold by the tension I espoused, fitted for full integration into a burning house.
Track Name: 27
Spite is its own overcommitment and a self-preservation instinct. Self-love is enough even if it’s only saying to yrself “I’m surviving” while passively practicing silence. Tell everyone that I’m thriving...As though I share ya’ll disbelief at the doublespeak dressed as apologies. Those closest to me cut me off when I speak. Macroaggressive and projecting, thus not worth mentioning. Backward I move too, but I trip over The cAsUaLTiEs, life lost is no cost for a lapse in humanity. Congratulate me, sight unseen. Congratulate me, a nigga finally free. You literally put yr hands on me and all you’ll ever get is leave. Take leave of the speech of the truth you hate and shout it down as fake, lie in wait, lie and wait. Lie awake each night, or D) All of the above, yo I love to lie and I live to love
On god I will not participate, lemme rephrase, no more faith in the process, potential as progress, or intangible sweet nothings prepackaged as promises. All them lil vacations in the crossfire between you and yr future selves, is of a trajectory of dishonesty that leaves transgressions propelled. You see the tragedy as yrs to manage, a wound if you grip tight enough you think you can bandage. I’ll only accept apologies in cash or true change, but I will reclaim my time all the same. Dolo, left to wonder, wandering, questioning what it is to mitigate my guilt in not standing up and saying what I just won’t tolerate. You literally put yr hands on me, yr anger was never surprising.
Track Name: 30
My wall is a garden of dark marks, interwoven strokes rapturously posted up, not ruins, but still sutured to a corrupt culture awaiting chances at its deconstruction. My whole family stillborn in the cut, living, working, dying as yr laborers yet labeled “non-essential” by you fucks. Yr wall is imported, pretty sure you used the word “glorious,” but you can’t both use and ignore us, or fuck and pretend to adore us. What type of love is only true in its desire to stay hateful? What type of world did you think you birthed where you thought I would be grateful?? You really thought I would be grateful??? U thought!!
I over-analyzed the size of the affect of life as a mark and an object of disrespect. Remade in H.I.S. image, redacted, refitted for symmetry, but over the border my future’s free of that conspiracy. Wishing to keep yr threats well-kept as yr weaponized debt is yr wall my nigga. My wall’s the earth and more than the dirt you tried to sweep up under the rug my nigga. You gentrified a whole continent with a whip on some hand-over-fist shit nigga. Tell me, am I still the embodiment of the evil that yr daddy did live nigga?
Yr wall is imported, I’m pretty sure you used the word ‘glorious,’ but you can’t both use and ignore us or fuck and pretend to adore us. What love is only true in its desire to stay hateful? What type of world did you think you birthed where you thought I’d be grateful??? U really thought I’d be grateful??? U thought! U cannot have my joy!! U thought!!!!!

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