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Professional Hobbyist

by Praverb the Wyse

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about

Professional Hobbyist is a ten track journey that examines a man who is a blue collar man by day and an emcee by night. The project highlights the struggles associated with vocation, educational goals, personal life and a time consuming hobby. I make it perfectly clear that I would rather make a living as an emcee as opposed to completing a Masters in Business Administration. The album features production from This Is Tomorrow, Manu Beats, LX-Beats, Skipless, Muneshine and more. BrainStormers crewmate, Dj Grazzhoppa, adds scratch hooks on three of the ten tracks including the title track. The project also boasts a feature from long time collaborator Don Streat.

credits

released 15 October 2011
======================================

Mixed and Mastered by Dichter 2 Productions (dichter2productions@googlemail.com)

Cover Album Art by Nick Polifroni (www.nickpolifroni.com)

tags

tags: beats hip hop/rap rhymes virginia boom bap hip-hop jazz hop lyricism Northern

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all rights reserved

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about

Praverb is an emcee that loves to share his trials and tribulations with the world. Praverb's goal revolves around creating music that people can relate to.

discography

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shipping and returns

Track Name: My Journey
[Verse 1]
High School, started this, passion, ego
Pen-ning rhymes had me rapping for people
Self-esteem grew, I was challenging people
Put your money up like cash in the casinos//
Ten years later, different demographic
Same CD, but this demo has graphics
Composition book, post it notes, and more
Finding time to put the pen to the tablet//
40 hour work week, life, and school
I don't have the free time, to get in the mood
The muse is there, the inspiration is gone
You a little get older, and your memory's off//
It only took me ten minutes, to finish a song
Nowadays I sit back and I'm listening more
I wonder if the hunger stopped?
Because I focus more on life and not trying to be on top//

[Chorus 4x]
My journey, my way to the top
I gonna make it man, I'm never gon' stop

[Verse 2]
I want to settle down, there's no one to settle with
I want a wife, when I die I'll pass my settlements
I have brothers, they're not focused on fellowship
They only care about the money that a fellow gets//
I want a queen, in my dreams she is heaven sent
I want a queen, buy a ring, I'm mad hesitant
My parents, always keep pressing in
60 minute game, and I gotta face the press again//
So I caress the pen, feeling open, awoken
Zoning, hopeless, nowadays I'm sheltered in
Reflect on the present tense, when the record spins
The large house, checking on the health of kids//
Spitting wisdom, flows on instrumentals
My mental is in-stru-mental to my pencil
Moving on up from the, apartment rental
To a four acre lot, the rest is all essential//

[Chorus 4x]
Track Name: Professional Hobbyist
[Chorus (Scratched) - 2x]
*Professional slash Hobbyist*
*Yo, P the Wyse, show em how we grind, precise writing*
*With this mic, I'm God*
*I put words together like Peter Jennings, aight*

[Verse 1]
I do this for fun, sometimes I would like to be known
A king dethroned, like Lebron without a ring so...
I practice daily, with no monetary focus
I sway the hopeless, with 16 lines of dopeness//
Do I need to rhyme? Why I am I speaking lines?
Work, then school, rhyming in my leisure time
The ultimate outlet, to release my mind
This is love right here, yes the sweetest kind//
Strive for printed articles when I freelance
Interact with the crowd, astound, when I meet fans
Greet, seek, finds things that are unique
Spread the name around, thus expand thy reach//
Give one hundred percent, nothing less
Research or Google, I'm trying to be in depth
Working on a new direction with an instep
Writing in my dreams and letting the pen rest//

[Chorus (Scratched) - 2x]
*Professional slash Hobbyist*
*Yo, P the Wyse, show em how we grind, precise writing*
*With this mic, I'm God*
*I put words together like Peter Jennings, aight*

[Verse 2]
Blue collar, professional slash hobbyist
A junior reporter with big dreams of politics
Toddlers, Tiaras, contracts and contacts
To big city dreams, people saying model this//
Hustle hard, with a squad, yes the grind exists
Be a leader, not a follower, fam find a niche
Climb a fence, forget useless limitations
This is penning greatness, next step innovation//
Life on pause, with this mic I'm God
Nah, before the mic gripping, I write these bars
The pencil is my tool, yes my instrument
The notebook, the streetwalker and I'm pimping it//
Kicking simple scripts, the opposite of intricate
Stay the course, no matter how bad the mission gets
Be patient and wait your turn
A hobbyist with the grace to learn
With the grace to learn//

[Chorus (Scratched) - 2x]
*Professional slash Hobbyist*
*Yo, P the Wyse, show em how we grind, precise writing*
*With this mic, I'm God*
*I put words together like Peter Jennings, aight*

[Verse 3]
It's Earl from 8 to 4, Patrick from 5 to 10
Praverb when the rhymes begin
Shows lack, I don't have the time for them
Ten people in the audience, nine are friends//
No money from the door
That means no gas
No merch for your show
When you perform last
Thoughts of robbing a bank with no mask
Run rampant in my mind, sheesh, at least I'm recognized//

[Bridge (Scratched)]
*Recognize*
*Living proof, what I spit it the booth*
*My verbals known to crush bones*

[Chorus (Scratched) - 2x]
*Professional slash Hobbyist*
*Yo, P the Wyse, show em how we grind, precise writing*
*With this mic, I'm God*
*I put words together like Peter Jennings, aight*
Track Name: Blue Collar (feat. Don Streat)
[Verse 1 - Praverb the Wyse]
Dressed down, decked out in a Polo shirt
Checks bounce like the way that a pogo works
9 to 5, strive to thrive, despite low wages
The story of my life without no pages//
Clock in, clock out, just a matter of time
Work hard, hardly work, some shatter their spine
No frontal lobe, I erase the dream
In the pursuit of happiness, trying to chase the cream//
Got an Associates, no raise, praise from associates
Advanced degrees, I wonder if it's over with
BA in Pysch, on strike with these motorists
In DMV, where the traffic is atrocious//
Approaching 30 quick
Ten years with promotion and I still feel they haven't heard me spit
The game is a vacuum and I'm the salesman
Still trying to sell these Kirby kits, sheesh//
I'm tired of this routine, hit the alarm clock
Today is my destiny, I got the game on lock
Different clothes, worn to the same gig
Intakes and outtakes, smiling at the same kids//
Relate my life to their's, I overcame it
We God's children, we don't have the same skin
Foster home, at eight, at ten I was brainless
Constant trouble maker, switches, I was trained with//

[Chorus - Don Streat]
I got my check in today and of course I'm feeling fine (okay)
Everyday I clock in and out and of course I'm on the dime (yeah)
I put in work over time cause you know holmes got to shine (un huh)
I need that like yesterday that's why I stay on the grind

[Verse 2 - Don Streat]
Donnie Homy up in Benny Hanna's
Yup I hardly ate now I’m on that R1 Honda
My wife on the back of it factor in nobody moving at the same pace and me
And I ain’t even racing B//
Basically neck and neck with the blue collarers
I do anything to bring a dollar in, holla at me
Soldier of fortune unfortunately
I only get a portion of my pay when I’m overseas//
Look big homie still feel blessed
Smiling when I’m counting up numbers on my L.E.S
For you civilians that’s a pay stub,
with my Fam trying to lay up
Trying to get way up,
no time to wait up//
Lacing my J’s up,
when I’m running to the money my shoes’ll stay up
I ain’t hiding from it sonny I want it in hundreds
Since fast food days as a youngen//
Yea my youngens like where it at
Don’t have it when they need it they ain’t trying to hear that
They ain't trying to take a lost like the bear cats
Trying to hit the mall with friends where the gear at//
Soon as I get got to share that
And my oldest talking bout beauty salons where hair at
So she can get hat Kerry Hilson cut
Acting like I’m Daddy Warbucks yea they got me messed up//

[Chorus - Don Streat]
I got my check in today and of course I'm feeling fine (okay)
Everyday I clock in and out and of course I'm on the dime (yeah)
I put in work over time cause you know holmes got to shine (un huh)
I need that like yesterday that's why I stay on the grind
Track Name: Everlasting Struggle
There are over 13 million people in this country who are unemployed and many more worldwide and every day I still complain about my job.

[Verse 1]
One day you have a job, the next day your laid off
In the Unemployment line, can't wait to be paid off
At the supermarket, spending your last dime
Car on E, just thinking of past times//
Cutting grass for neighbors, walking their dogs
Changing their lights and cleaning their cars
Still attending church, no work, still tithing
Faith in an envelope, no funds provided//
God knows your heart, friends try to inspire
Wife presents bills, add fuel to the fire
Late mortgage, repo man, eyeing your ride
Suck it up, read Classifieds, dieing inside//
Sense of pride, can't see yourself dipping them fries
Or flipping a patty, you see yourself pimping a Caddy
Kids want to be fresh, tried of hand me downs
They get picked on, you stand your ground//

[Verse 2]
Each day the same routine, the same blue jeans
Progress towards a new life and a new dream
Fill out applications, you have aspirations
Complete them fast because you have a lack of patience//
Called in for interviews, wear a vintage suit
Coffee stains on your tie, not presentable
Wear dingy Stacy Adams not tennis shoes
This long wait, has you sweating, doing intervals//
Feeling miserable, you ready to puke
Butterflies in your stomach and they ready to move
Eager to work, faith keeps you in church
Miracle worker, just plant your seed in the dirt//
Friends say keep on
Preacher say keep on
This moment is a testimony, for you to speak on
I been there, unemployed and depressed
This is temporary man this is only a test//
Track Name: For My People
[Verse 1]
I do this for school teachers, educate the masses
The EMTs who weave in and out of traffic
The Police, some corupt, most loyal
The American troop, fighting on rough soil//
I do this for the mechanic, fix some cars
Grease on they shirt, they living it large (ha!)
I do this for those making minimum wage
In a garage, thinking of ways of better pay//
I do this for the single mother, working two gigs
Two kids, drama, stressed, wearing a new wig
Lease is up, landlord wants her out
So they can clean the place and new people can move in//
I do this for the graduates, seeking entry
No interviews, applications are plenty
Businesses are lacking, stock market is crashing
Payback student loans, money is rationed//
I do this for the convicts, trying to turn their life around
Find peace with the Word, they living righteous now
The streets calling, prison they just left out
No job, old habits, seem to be the best route//
Looting, shooting, recruiting, anything for cheese
They have good manners, they practice saying please
I do this for the people,
because the people give me the motivation to succeed, don't you agree?//
Track Name: The Critic
[Chorus (Scratched)]
*Everybody's a critic*

[Verse 1]
I wake up with doubts, should I pursue this
Am I wasting time by writing this music?
In class, I was a clown among the brightest of students
My willingness to learn, became the influence//
Waiting for my turn, the game is a gamble
Waiting for my shot, I don't have a steady handle
Or aim, I proclaim, following foot prints
Made in the sand, by feet or a pair of sandals//
A work in progress, in need of repair
No reserve left, am I retrieving a spare?
My worst critic is myself, check my health
Stressing, I should be happy breathing the air//
Thankful, for another day and opportunity
Selfless acts change the I to a community
It's time to influence the movement
Based on globalization and the promotion of unity//

[Chorus (Scratched) - 4x]
*Don't say this, don't say that change your lyric*
*Everybody's a critic*

[Verse 2]
I write a rhyme and it's hard for me to keep it
Release music, like gossip, sharing secrets
Past notebooks stay closed, even rhymes a day old
Get erased, because it's hard for me to read it//
My own worst enemy, the mind is toxic
Blacked out nights, thinking times are Gothic
God has a sense of humor, it's not a rumor
Check the events and the signs he's dropping//
I gotta shape up, no need for a taper
I bleed for this music, will I, bleed for the savior?
Depressed at the news or from reading the paper
Slaying demons, can I be the demon slayer?//
I offer critique, can I take the criticism?
Script knowledge with this mighty pen that I'm lifting
...My own worst enemy, I try to excel
I try but I fail, but at least I'm living//

[Chorus (Scratched) - 4x]
*Don't say this, don't say that change your lyric*
*Everybody's a critic*
Track Name: Nothing to Gain
LX Beats, yeah, Finland in the house
America, you know

I hear a lot of rappers and a lot of them sound the same
But see me, I got nothing to gain sounding like the next man, nothing at all...

[Verse 1]
As my foot hits the pavement, I think about engagements
Education, personal life, I want to make hits
It's so simple, yet many don't understand
I'm jogging in place, in life I do the running man//
Each day presents a new dream a new goal
Finding shortcuts, maybe even a loophole
Music is therapy, cause truth be told
growing old scares me, remain Rufio//
Stumble when I mumble over the hi-hats
3D when you see me it's like I-Max
A live chat, present some surprise raps
Pawn my soul, there's no chance for buy backs//
I have daily things that I strive for
Present truth, what do I have to lie for
I want to reach the clouds, so I fly more
When the speakers pound, I want to see the crowd//

[Chorus - 2x]
I'm not gon' whine, I'm not gon' complain
This rap money here, it all be the same
Major or indy, I'm still in my lane
If I rap like you, I got nothing to gain//

[Verse 2]
I'm back like I never left, thread with every step
In the gym, getting thin, pushing every rep
Every set, erases the stress, chase success
Won't plunge, won't die, no Faces Of Death//
Greatness is kept, inside, motivation just lies
On the sheet, writing heat, until the pen dries
No coward, fierce lion, some can sense pride
Purify my soul, it's complete, not rinse dried//
Life is short, I resort to commit time
To things I believe in and people I love
Music, I need a fix, I believe it's a drug
Ten years strong and I'm still seeking a buzz//
Still seeking a fanbase, gathering emails
Present free music, no need for retail
Strong work ethic, working on presales
Connect with the fans, giving them details//

[Chorus - 2x]

[Verse 3]
Grace the stage, correct the mistakes I made
Play the game way before the bases laid
A role model, no hero that saves the day
I just want to write because it takes the pain away//
Use to struggle with writer's block, now I write a lot
Mind full of topics, destined to be in Vinyl spots
Not the final stop, I've been blessed to breathe
Far from the best emcee, respect me please//

[Bridge]
If I rap like you I got nothing to gain
Let me take you on a journey where I struggle for fame
I want to be large, you know double my name
But until then I'll just humbly claim
I got nothing to gain
I got nothing to gain
If I rap like you I got nothing to gain
Let me take you on a journey where I struggle for fame
If I rap like you I got nothing to gain

[Chorus - 2x]
Track Name: I Pray (Fall To My Knees)
[Verse 1]
Dear Lord, we not keeping in touch
Conceal my past, it seems we ain't speaking as much
Awake all night, I can't sleep, or dream of some stuff
Super stressed, I'm in need of a rush//
No shoulder to lean on, I stray, I should keep on
Preach on, but I'm in need of a crutch
Addicted, on porn sites, sneaking with lust
Motor boating, I was hoping to speak with the bust//
Human urges, reveal life with these verses
GZA, with Liquid Swords, Beneath the Surface
Words in cursive, my signature on pages
Spitting with a hunger, like I never made it//
Falling on my knees, giving praise when I need it
When I'm on top, I guess I forget to speak it
Had to dust the bible off, put on the glasses
And examine why I need to read it//

[Chorus 2x]
Fall to my knees, elevate my hands
Interlock my fingers, then I start to chant
Look to the sky, I want to fly to France
Praying every night for a change in circumstance//

[Verse 2]
Dear Lord, guess that I'm a lost sheep
Spent nights staring at the wall, I lost sleep
Devil with his riches, chasing me
Looking at the man in the mirror who's facing me//
Far from perfect, living life without a rodeo clown
When I'm down, I am in need of a circus
In need of a rhyme book, some reality
Based rhymes, time is ticking, and I chase time//
Dear Lord, you know that I'm dealing with debt
Tithing envelope empty, I'm seeing you less
Pray to you, dreaming success
But nowadays, it seems that I am very depressed//
Distance is a burden, I miss the sermons
The altar call, I'm in need of forgiveness
Dear Lord, spent nights, without missing
Your presence, now I am in need of repentance//

[Chorus 2x]

[Verse 3]
I walk through the valley of death, without a shadow
Put on the armor of God, ready for a battle
Pull out the lasso, ready to caught the cattle
Sitting a top a horse without a steady saddle//
Dear Lord, forgive me for my sinning past
A sinning present, the future's full of sin you ask
Went from a Mongoose to spinning class
Lance, HGH, I won't finish last//
Dear Lord, I confess that I lied too
A breath of fresh air after I tried glue
There's blood in my veins, no Piru
Confession box is locked, so I hide truth//
On my knees, who should I believe?
Lift my voice, over joyed by the breeze
Took time, I cook rhymes, with ease
Thank God for another day, I can breathe//

[Chorus 2x]
Track Name: That's How It Is (feat. Don Streat)
[Verse 1 - Praverb the Wyse]
This J. Cole swole, yes P is grown Simba
husky with the voice, hoist like I know Kemba
Median with the speech, the sender, destined to reach
no pretender, I enter like I'm blessed to compete//
With the force of a street fighter, Tekken, you see
trying to be known, without people checking for me
Tenderize the beef like I'm prepping the meat
life is precious, thankful for the seconds to breathe//
Life, is life, it offers many lessons it seems
dreams are a good way to express some relief
Expressing beliefs, self expression for teens
takes the form of an iPhone, they dreading the speech//
Detached from the world, steady pressing the keys
no news, current events, stressed by the need
To fit in, peer pressure has them repping the streets
others seek suicide and just head for the sea//

[Verse 2 - Don Streat]
Socially awkward so these keys is what I talk with
Only slang the dude use computer jargon
I don’t want to play outside exercise, no jogging
I just let my fingers do the walking//
We can get on blogs and start squalking
Type till I’m blue in the face from this nonsense
All this content post these comments
Like my life depended on this//
If sitting on these forums count for perfect performance
I guess attendance is enormous
Let me warm em screens are never dormant
It took on a form of its own king of the format//
Stroking the keys 24-7 I’m on that
Behind windows I’m all that yup
I can be what I wanna be low key
Got to sign-in to know me homie//
Track Name: November 11th
Worship the king, know that the purpose is clean
the earth is 80 percent water yet the surface is green
Created from dust, royal ties, the birth of a king
at an early age, the sage had me flirting with queens//
Mechanic heart, in my teens, I would service machines
focused on money, not talks about birds and the bees
Future told, I was grown, searching for dreams
dream searching, conversing while working for cream//
Stray from violence, my reliance on the church, it brings
joy, no vigil, or emergency teams
I want to be a millionaire, purchase some things
Cars, a yacht, clothes with colorful schemes//
That's the good life, want to be signed to G.O.O.D right
I can bank like Creflo, on Death Row like Suge Knight
The weapon is my mouth, wishing that I could fight
Inspiration, the music, right now I should write//
About the pain, in my heart, I want to levitate
Wrestling with pride, cut water, I'm shedding weight
Heavy burden on my shoulders, I'm super stressed
Depressed that a grudge will interfere with my Wedding Date//
Wood grain exterior, have to put the Pledge away
Free falling soul, I'm headed for a ledge today
Wipe my eyes from these tears, felt the pepper stray
Spent nights talking to God while the record plays//
Listen to Marvin Gaye, starving artist art remains
Father in the hospital, needs to have his heart exchanged
Talk about a defect, got it reset
A hard working man with legs on a feet rest//
Thinking to myself, he was close he could see death
Still has a pep in his step and I'm sluggish
Moving around the house, arms low from the luggage
Back sore, can't stand upright in public//
I'm a writer, with a marketing mind
With no niche, I wonder who will market these rhymes
Fighting father time and the sand in the hour glass
It's always sunny here, today we let the showers past//
Matured into a man, left behind my childish past
Hello new life, goodbye being signed for cash
It's still a hobby though, I smile when I hear rap
Because it was expression when I had fear trapped//
It was expression, when the words caused confusion
It was expression, never won, steady losing
It was expression, I'm thankful for my rhyme books
They made me appreciate how long a rhyme took//
Take some time to remember the heavens
My whole life will change on November 11th (2x)
Track Name: The Critic (Smimooz Remix)
[Verse 1]
I wake up with doubts, should I pursue this
Am I wasting time by writing this music?
In class, I was a clown among the brightest of students
My willingness to learn, became the influence//
Waiting for my turn, the game is a gamble
Waiting for my shot, I don't have a steady handle
Or aim, I proclaim, following foot prints
Made in the sand, by feet or a pair of sandals//
A work in progress, in need of repair
No reserve left, am I retrieving a spare?
My worst critic is myself, check my health
Stressing, I should be happy breathing the air//
Thankful, for another day and opportunity
Selfless acts change the I to a community
It's time to influence the movement
Based on globalization and the promotion of unity//

[Scratch Hook - 4x]
Don't say this, don't say that change your lyric
Everybodies a critic

[Verse 2]
I write a rhyme and it's hard for me to keep it
Release music, like gossip, sharing secrets
Past notebooks stay closed, even rhymes a day old
Get erased, because it's hard for me to read it//
My own worst enemy, the mind is toxic
Blacked out nights, thinking times are Gothic
God has a sense of humor, it's not a rumor
Check the events and the signs he's dropping//
I gotta shape up, no need for a taper
I bleed for this music, will I, bleed for the savior?
Depressed at the news or from reading the paper
Slaying demons, can I be the demon slayer?//
I offer critique, can I take the criticism?
Script knowledge with this mighty pen that I'm lifting
...My own worst enemy, I try to excel
I try but I fail, but at least I'm living//

[Scratch Hook - 4x]
Don't say this, don't say that change your lyric
Everybodies a critic