Broke boy this week, but as she speaks her truth brings lows to my soul then brings peaks. unfolds me like clean sheets. tell me a story it's bedtime, them fabric softener rhymes, like sweet dreams. Telefone induced hibernation. never been so fond of a bond with a rotation, just cozied up with a record, the lavender sleeve my dress shirt, matches the artwork on the work that made me respect her. audio sweet nectar. listening to its dripping. you question heaven's existing, I got it with free shipping. channels Billie while rhyming. I sit sipping my 20 oz. a venti, divine, she gifts aplenty. she mentors, makes me her mentee, she fresh enough to be minty, smooth criminal how she gets me, firm lyrically, instrumentally, on soft beats, al dente, she do her thing independently. and this is what it meant to me.
Can I get two tickets to a Noname show, two tickets to a Noname show broke boy this week but I got good taste though (2x)
Self-promotes songs, independent, so it's vital. on my twitter page, dreamt about a copy on vinyl. it's a limited edition. I can't make a purchase, cuz I’d need my wife's permission and she says it isn't worth it because I don't own a player. Rhymer/Educator. spit the fire but lack the hi-fi, stream it on the wi-fi, thinking that she made the chi right, since she dropped, when I heard the diddy-bop, put her record at the top, next to Tribe, Comm Sense, BlackStar, Aquemini, every song is hella-fly, when the days go by I've got a soundtrack. proud, hope she plaques the triple plat, she's the best in my opinion, my opinion's triple facts. all of that. she's the sing-a-long, the one I want to bring along, the coffee and the cream that keeps me warm as I daydream along. centerpiece, time piece, my peace, Nia Long. beauty, poetry, and humanity in a song.
Rainy days staring out the window. a puddle forms a little on the playground, wishing I could play around. melancholy moments make me revisit my issues, grab a tissue, think about my father, wish he would have stayed around, but she's my remedy for that. my escape route. she's a champagne flute, as she flows through the room. she's a ticket in first class, Wilson Pickett, same sass, less grit, still legit, like Ella Fitz, it makes jazz-sense. she sassafras, her words have many uses. peace out like deuces. hang from every lyric like she nooses. entertained by everything she chooses. radio does not dictate the coolness. her music is the coffee house, trendy blouse, femme fetale, mighty mouse, opposite of enervate, Noname with that Gypsy style, circumvent the fan mail, Noname can you hear me now? and i'll be singing this for a while.
from The Rhymer/Educator Project,
released September 28, 2018
Title: Noname Show
Track 09 of 19
Album: The Rhymer/Educator Project
Release Year: 2018
Written/Performed by Joe Ruiz aka Rhymer/Educator
Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Sam Henderson of RecordingWithSam at Always Be Genius Recording Studios in Crown Point, IN.
Music by SINIMA BEATS