THE HONEST ANSWER

introspective emotional rap, conversational delivery, cinematic piano, deep bass, orchestral build, raw storytelling, vulnerable vocal tone building to intense, NF style, no autotune, 130 BPM, minor key piano loop, dramatic strings, personal and confessional, spoken word moments

Everybody asks me how I'm doing, I say "better,"
But the truth is I've been stitching myself back together
Every single morning like it's normal, like it's WEATHER,
Like I didn't spend three years not knowing if I'd ever
Get back UP, get back RIGHT, get back to feeling like a PERSON,
Not a PROJECT, not a PROBLEM, not a story that's not WORTH it —
See I smile and say "I'm blessed" and yeah that part is CERTAIN,
But they don't see the nights I spent behind a closed-off CURTAIN.

"Maz, you're doing great, man, look at everything you're building"
Yeah, I know — but do you know what it cost me to be in this POSITION?
Do you know about the PILLS, the ISOLATION, the DECISIONS
That I made at 3 AM when I was losing my RELIGION?
Nah, you don't — and that's fine, I'm not looking for your PITY,
I'm just tired of pretending that the ANSWER's always PRETTY,
'Cause it's NOT — sometimes it's ugly, sometimes messy, sometimes GRITTY,
And the realest thing I've said all year is "I don't know" — honestly.

"How's life?" — I don't know, that's the honest answer,
Some days I'm the fire, some days I'm the ASHES,
I've been dealing with some things I don't post on the STATUS,
Smiling in the pictures but I'm SEARCHING for the BALANCE.

Last year — no, let me go back FURTHER,
Twenty-twenty, yeah, that's when I felt the MURDER —
Not the physical, the kind that kills your PURPOSE,
When the people that you TRUSTED pull the rug beneath the SURFACE.

Had a business, had a VISION, had a circle I believed in,
Then I watched it all UNRAVEL in a single SEASON —
Invested in the WRONG hands, gave my loyalty for NO REASON,
And the ones who ate the MOST were the first ones out the DOOR, leavin'.

Twenty-one I hit the FLOOR and I ain't talking 'bout a STUMBLE,
I'm talking UNDERGROUND, I'm talking CRUMBLE —
Numbing everything I felt because the VOLUME of the PAIN
Was louder than the VOICE inside my head that said "stay HUMBLE, stay SANE."

I wasn't sane — I'll say it, I was BROKEN,
I was HIGH to keep the DARKNESS from the OPEN,
I was hiding from MYSELF inside a VERSION of a man
That my DAUGHTER would be ASHAMED of — and that thought? That's what WOKE him.

Twenty-two, twenty-three — I went QUIET,
Not the peaceful kind, the "I might not SURVIVE this" kind of SILENCE —
Sat alone inside my HEAD, fought every demon on a DIET
Of self-reflection and the WILL to not go back to VIOLENCE
Against MYSELF — yeah, I said it, that's the part nobody MENTIONS,
The war ain't always OUTWARD, sometimes it's your OWN INVENTIONS,
Your own THOUGHTS building PRISONS, your own FEARS writing SENTENCES,
And RECOVERY ain't linear — it's CIRCLES with EXCEPTIONS.

But twenty-four — man, twenty-four changed EVERYTHING,
God handed me a DAUGHTER and she handed me a REASON —
Tiny fingers wrapped around mine and the DEMONS started LEAVING,
Not all at once, but ENOUGH to start BELIEVING
That maybe I'm not BROKEN, maybe I was just BENDING,
Maybe every CHAPTER that I thought was the ENDING
Was just the setup for a STORY worth DEFENDING —
And NOW? I'm finally writing it. No more pretending.

So yeah — when you ask me how I'm doing,
I'm not gonna lie anymore.
Some days are hard. Some days I still don't sleep.
Some days I look at my daughter and I cry
because I almost wasn't here.
But I'm here. And that's the honest answer.

Twenty-five, I got new SKILLS and a CLEARER mind,
Twenty-six, I'm not the same man and that's BY DESIGN —
I don't hide behind the "I'm FINE" anymore,
'Cause the bravest thing I ever did was OPEN up the DOOR
And say — "Nah, I'm NOT okay, but I'm WORKING on it DAILY,
And the man I'm becoming? He was WORTH the pain that MADE me."

So next time someone asks me, "Maz, how's life?"
I'll say — it's REAL. And real is better than alright.

[End]

4178/7500

"Hey Maz, how you been, man? Haven't seen you in a while" I'm good, I'm good — yeah, I'm fine "You sure? You look tired" Nah, I'm fine, I just — ...actually, you know what? Let me be honest for a minute. Everybody asks me how I'm doing, I say "better," But the truth is I've been stitching myself back together Every single morning like it's normal, like it's WEATHER, Like I didn't spend three years not knowing if I'd ever Get back UP, get back RIGHT, get back to feeling like a PERSON, Not a PROJECT, not a PROBLEM, not a story that's not WORTH it — See I smile and say "I'm blessed" and yeah that part is CERTAIN, But they don't see the nights I spent behind a closed-off CURTAIN. "Maz, you're doing great, man, look at everything you're building" Yeah, I know — but do you know what it cost me to be in this POSITION? Do you know about the PILLS, the ISOLATION, the DECISIONS That I made at 3 AM when I was losing my RELIGION? Nah, you don't — and that's fine, I'm not looking for your PITY, I'm just tired of pretending that the ANSWER's always PRETTY, 'Cause it's NOT — sometimes it's ugly, sometimes messy, sometimes GRITTY, And the realest thing I've said all year is "I don't know" — honestly. "How's life?" — I don't know, that's the honest answer, Some days I'm the fire, some days I'm the ASHES, I've been dealing with some things I don't post on the STATUS, Smiling in the pictures but I'm SEARCHING for the BALANCE. Last year — no, let me go back FURTHER, Twenty-twenty, yeah, that's when I felt the MURDER — Not the physical, the kind that kills your PURPOSE, When the people that you TRUSTED pull the rug beneath the SURFACE. Had a business, had a VISION, had a circle I believed in, Then I watched it all UNRAVEL in a single SEASON — Invested in the WRONG hands, gave my loyalty for NO REASON, And the ones who ate the MOST were the first ones out the DOOR, leavin'. Twenty-one I hit the FLOOR and I ain't talking 'bout a STUMBLE, I'm talking UNDERGROUND, I'm talking CRUMBLE — Numbing everything I felt because the VOLUME of the PAIN Was louder than the VOICE inside my head that said "stay HUMBLE, stay SANE." I wasn't sane — I'll say it, I was BROKEN, I was HIGH to keep the DARKNESS from the OPEN, I was hiding from MYSELF inside a VERSION of a man That my DAUGHTER would be ASHAMED of — and that thought? That's what WOKE him. "How's life?" — I don't know, that's the honest answer, Some days I'm the fire, some days I'm the ASHES, I've been dealing with some things I don't post on the STATUS, Smiling in the pictures but I'm SEARCHING for the BALANCE. Twenty-two, twenty-three — I went QUIET, Not the peaceful kind, the "I might not SURVIVE this" kind of SILENCE — Sat alone inside my HEAD, fought every demon on a DIET Of self-reflection and the WILL to not go back to VIOLENCE Against MYSELF — yeah, I said it, that's the part nobody MENTIONS, The war ain't always OUTWARD, sometimes it's your OWN INVENTIONS, Your own THOUGHTS building PRISONS, your own FEARS writing SENTENCES, And RECOVERY ain't linear — it's CIRCLES with EXCEPTIONS. But twenty-four — man, twenty-four changed EVERYTHING, God handed me a DAUGHTER and she handed me a REASON — Tiny fingers wrapped around mine and the DEMONS started LEAVING, Not all at once, but ENOUGH to start BELIEVING That maybe I'm not BROKEN, maybe I was just BENDING, Maybe every CHAPTER that I thought was the ENDING Was just the setup for a STORY worth DEFENDING — And NOW? I'm finally writing it. No more pretending. So yeah — when you ask me how I'm doing, I'm not gonna lie anymore. Some days are hard. Some days I still don't sleep. Some days I look at my daughter and I cry because I almost wasn't here. But I'm here. And that's the honest answer. Twenty-five, I got new SKILLS and a CLEARER mind, Twenty-six, I'm not the same man and that's BY DESIGN — I don't hide behind the "I'm FINE" anymore, 'Cause the bravest thing I ever did was OPEN up the DOOR And say — "Nah, I'm NOT okay, but I'm WORKING on it DAILY, And the man I'm becoming? He was WORTH the pain that MADE me." So next time someone asks me, "Maz, how's life?" I'll say — it's REAL. And real is better than alright. [End]

0/500