Professional Hobbyist

by Praverb the Wyse

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1.
My Journey 02:47
[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]
2.
[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*
3.
[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
4.
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//
5.
[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?//
6.
The Critic 02:50
[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*
7.
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]
8.
[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]
9.
[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//
10.
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)
11.
[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
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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 October 15, 2011

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

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

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Praverb the Wyse Northern

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.

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