Self Titled

by Solo For Dolo

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released April 8, 2012

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Solo For Dolo New Jersey

Twitter / Instagram : @Solofordolo

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Track Name: QUARTER WATER KIDS produced by Marco Polo
I've been a menace since Denis and Sam Kinison.
Take a pinch off a nickel bag, While I swig of the gin and then,
Back to killin' em. Till im fucking shipping a million,
Until then, Imma be sitting here straight grilling' em.
Cuz cash still rules everything around me...
Music is a business and talent is fucking drowning.
No joke... Im getting tired of this Lifestyle.
Bout to hit it raw when im cumming in for the mic now.
Tip the cash cow, Starved and reckless.
Wish I could sign to Young Money just to pawn the neckless.
Until then Im hitting bodegas for breakfast,
Praying to go that I get approved for my credit.
That aint the half. My whip games pathetic.
Shit... My cars got the stereo you play cassettes with.
And thats alright... Im just down to my last tape.
And Illmatics great, But my shit eats tapes!
More static! Im bout to wreck and cause damage.
For Lettuce, Paper, Skrilla, Cabbage.
Call me a hater, No fuck it call me a savage.
If a rich rappers missing... Yall know how it happened.

Now Stand Up.
All broke ass people throw your hands up.
Start pumping your fists, Get em amped up.
For my Quarter Water Kids, Heres the Anthem (Heres the Anthem) (2x)

Only thing certain, Is im headed for debt.
I dropped my first LP with an unemployment check.
Flipped my investment, But I aint done yet.
So imma give you all a 2nd just to slaughter your deck.
For the respect. My shit will slam through the damn monitor.
Leaving as the opening act, With some sad followers.
Yall wanna hate me? Fuck it come join the club.
I aint rapping for the thugs, Im something the ladies love.
And even if you paint me as another lazy scrub.
Im guaranteed to get the pus, Before you even slip the tongue.
Spot me, Live at the 7 11
Out in the front with a Slurpee chasing down some Exederine.
Probably dreaming up a scheme to get leverage.
You think a ski mask and pellet gun can bring the bread in?
Could of headed in, But through divine intervention.
Found a buck for a scratch off, and turned it to 37...
It doesn't pay to be lyrical...
Used to jack for beats and now Im boosting for cereal.
If I ever make it big it must be some sort of miracle...
Must of died broke... Count how many cop my material...

Now Stand Up.
All broke ass people throw your hands up.
Start pumping your fists, Get em amped up.
For my Quarter Water Kids, Heres the Anthem (Heres the Anthem) (2x)
Track Name: Asbury Rising produced by Maker
I miss those days, Weekends out in Asbury Park.
Rack a can of paint and decorate the cities heart.
Way back when Kingsley was strip clubs and bars.
Before it got revamped and they censored out every part.
There was something in the air like some sort of lost art.
That inspired me to rhyme, Thats where I got my start.
Back when local cats claimed Brooklyn on tracks.
I vowed in return that I would put it on the map.
And so began in essence, The life of a message.
In the form of an emcee getting nice on a record.
Cut back and spit it at any crowd I could pivot at.
Till too much gunplay caused clubs to get rid of rap.
Poof...Bring it back to the top of the fitted hat.
Came to show the magic to anybody who feels the track.
This for my people who been showing me love.
We gone make sure this city raise up.

Come on now raise your drinks up high,
We gone toast to the city this time.

Now as im sitting at that light by Kennedy Fried Chicken.
Im looking at the park and my mind stars reminiscing.
Remember walking home the first time I got lifted.
Smoking out a beer can till my legs went missing.
Back then the record shop was still hitting,
I would come and sling tapes until the owner came bitching.
Come back and hour later cop tapes by the brick then,
Go back home to press up my next shipment.
I've been doing this myself since the genesis.
Couldn't afford a Sega, I would rock that Nintendo shit.
Used to hop the train to Long Branch when the summer hit,
Just to roll around and try to hit up on some summer chicks.
There was some good times, Whole lotta good times.
Used to find a bum to buy us 40s all the time,
Back when we were too young to even know the price.
Paying $10 for some warm Colt.45.

Come on now raise your drinks up high,
We gone toast to the city this time.

Now when you walk through today, You can see theres a change,
Gentrified from the former vibe of memory lane.
From the Abandoned strip where the Pawn shop reigns,
Now neighbor to Art Galleries with Four Star Taste.
Where they'd love to forget about the music we make,
But when the city failed we were all that remained.
From the Stone Pony, Wonder Bar, down to The Saint.
Rest in Peace to the Moon Rock and places we'd skate.
Shout to to Rebearth for the cans I spray.
Use it to beautify the streets of former urban decay.
Its been a long time coming but we well on the way.
Yea they tried to snub us out but now the strongest remain.
Been on the map since Bruce's first LP.
Now they got this little fucker on the M.I.C.
And Imma rep the streets until I D.I.E.
Cuz I feel I found myself in the city of A.P.

Come on now raise your drinks up high,
We gone toast to the city this time.