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an homage to deviance

by just adon

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1.
new fences, bitter neighbors i ain’t make it, very far with good intentions we moving south paw, the laced shit just hit different i’m mentally drifting, shroom tea, brewed loose leaf newport menthol dream chaser, my cigarette vintage i like my shit more addictive 
my sis out here looking for a plug, niggas wicked where’s DARE when you need em walk the hood barefoot, dangerous where i’m sleeping they took the springs out my step, replaced em with needles i’m a punishment seeker, reaping penitence i bite my tongue my when i’m speaking mouth leaking red, reeking of metal in the summer, the rainstorms leaded units to move but the block too hot to sell em it’s the quota got me sweating obstacles stacking up, opportunity packing up we ain’t in love, we just shacking up sparking up at the protest, plainclothes officers attacking us molotovs, we sparkle when they shatter us my dad said you lose traction if you pedal fast enough bold claim, i’m ready to back it up all the way to the motherland freed jazz in south africa there’s still slaves in america not sure if i believe in diaspora
2.
egressions 02:02
ain’t done shit in days, stay trapped in my head pandemic an excuse not to make new friends call my grandmother from the bed ask where do you want your ashes might disappoint til she passes might hit the bar when i’m active drunk when i teach my classes fuck with a nigga named Tragic flammable liquid in my flask expired license in the dash pass the keys and cut the brakes don’t know where i’m going or my state i like mystery, focused on the people ain’t into me i met Misery off tinder and they hated my company bad witch but we still drank together uncomfortably skipped town and threw my lifesavings in the duffle i got off the bus and forgot it was under me rotted leaves, botulism carried in a city breeze governor please, i have to breathe a veteran of the concrete, warrior air forces colored his future the hustle mentality deeply rooted the game is corrupt and elusive he coveted blood, kept a dollar and a fever dream in his pocket she tried to cover his face in the sun, she called it a promise a destitute food desert in which they laid up watching out for vultures on the hunt tortoise in the dust, when did the hare wise up i’m too tired to rise up, the cancer in remission medical bills piling up, they needed remittance the family said they gotta eat, i felt a vague indifference i left home without permission, feeling vindictive the youth were underprivileged, so was i our laurels getting brittle, gotta stop my morals very twisted, cursing god i’m not alive
3.
dog tag tattoos on his collar bones bruised from living in squalor fresh wounds that won’t heal in due time old scars on my brow from doing from petty crime we met in the park watching boston bosozoku ride mind the gap, my shadow ain’t black, el nino got my back but the past is hot on my heels, i reel there’s rips in my sail, cracks in my keel i’m shipwrecked, but don’t worry me nah vex overproof to break the hex brodie shooting above the neck packing the blunt, unstoppable grabbing the sun, untouchable started stunting long before we ever won american spirits we bum that’s right, working class luxury getting punch-drunk on the run for fun
4.
we sold dimes and spent time we traded in favorite spots i don’t have to try to be myself not my best friend, something else, but still healthy she talk me down when i’m down and still hold me accountable she patient when i’m fixated honest when i’m irritating and the sex was alright too, strangely intimate i’m in the act acting like i’m all there she fake it when i pull the hair in a way we both care, we both finish sharing genuine grins, but it’s not why we here then we turn over and turn on the news rich kids scheming, noxious fumes leaking a lot of kinfolk jealous and greening they factory babies, peeking out they package black girls bleeding sickles and hammers fresh blood trickle down the economics when they sing freedom she was down bad, but still fickle but bursted eardrums don’t hear no money, no treatment frustrated, powerless, community faith healer say keep it the jazz hands flurry like ’63 birmingham mothers a brown boy’s body, you can’t touch it end of the road coming, so we said our goodbyes she cry, we drinking chamomile and moonshine then we turn over and turn on the news
5.
glitch hop in the background blowing the back out, i keep my head down she give me head now when i’m on zoom she break the loud out i double down when i’m off mute i’m sick, this call for good soup from hood hooch, yeah we scented the room with sweat we breaking the water bed she like the angle it bend the flow ebb, temporarily we make believe we making babies, unprotected she carol speed role playing, demonic possession body contorted, i’m fascinated, 2008 shit she in the house blowing bubbles with my.. i lost my good genes in recession i bought some bad weed, been obsessing i ain’t learn my lesson
6.
in the passenger seat getting sun sloshed off tennessee whiskey going one-twenty-five on route sixty-six screaming about how they gon miss me a dash cam fixture add ten niggas we thieves in the temple chilling one white witness, stirring the plot til it thicken her thumb on the pulse make it quicken interrogating me in the backseat i said paint me like one your victims and they do, they draw false negative pictures they beat it up in a dark room and pass it around a pound of flesh for you, a pound of flesh for you equal distribution and a pound of flesh from you before you leave make sure you get exact change and when they toss you out blue, exact revenge my black fist in the mist, ashy skin windswept i hold it higher for my kin, my cousin said that i was born in debt i sold my mother’s blessing, bought a compass i traded my father’s katana for a cutlass i have to find my own way, i find it hard to think i probly will sink, i’m spot-minded, but for now i stand tall small frame, broad-shouldered, getting stronger

about

as much as i enjoy making music, it's much more fun when i'm doing it with george. putting together this project was the first time since 'pimp nails' that i had so much fun rapping by myself - it was like practicing a series of etudes. i imagine this will be the last 'just adon, just george' project i fully produce for a while; i have some growing to do. anyways, thank you for listening, and as always..

everything is intent

credits

released August 3, 2022

written by just adon & rob apollo
production by just adon
artwork by just adon

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all rights reserved

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about

just adon, just george Boston, Massachusetts

we make lo-qual rap. pride before fall but right now we soaring!

inquiries at @justajustg on twitter

everything is intent.

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