From the padded cells to where the Hip-Hop Dwells.
Verses from a cursed lifer...

A wordsmith born in the urban jungles of midland Britain.
Wild days of teething terror, hacking his gnashers on the sounds of KRS and Jeru, the new kid with the non-stop military tone began his walk down the windy path of the Boom-Bap.

The days move on, the sounds follow the cries of the night wolf. Only awakening for hunger when the clock strikes 13. Institutions couldn't break him. The delusions couldn't shake him. The crazed look in the eyes, the terror thunder tears move in the shadows. With no position left to unturn, here comes the sound of the true avenger, the trooper, the man like Data-hoaX