Rong (No Hook Freestyle) by Rong

This is R-O-N-G,
yeah, that’s Rong,
but it feels right.
R&B first, rap second,
hip-hop in the bloodline.
No script, no filter,
just me talking my shit in the spotlight.

My name’s Rong, yeah that’s right,
but I never move wrong when I step to the mic.
R&B in my soul, rap sharp like a bite,
hip-hop in the room when I turn on the light.

I make grooves for the heart, make the rhythm behave,
put my thoughts in a song, let the whole thing wave.
Only a student, still learning this shit,
but I write for myself and the ones who commit.

I’m inexperienced, yeah, but I’m building the sound,
every rough little draft still holding me down.
Making songs for myself, themself, people around,
anybody who hears it and feels this shit somehow.

Not tryna be perfect, I’m tryna be true,
got a melody moving like it’s tying my shoes.
If the beat feels warm and the bass feels smooth,
then my flow makes you groove, makes your mood improve.

I slide on the beat like the floor got wax,
sing one line then I rap right back.
Rong on the track but the feeling’s exact,
if they say I’m off, I just call that facts
’cause I’m off the map.

N-G N-G N-G N-G, hear the name bounce clean,
R-O-N-G, but the “wrong” ain’t me.
NG means no good? Nah, flip that scene,
I turn no-good days into something that gleams.

Got a flow so clean that it rinses the room,
R&B moonlight, rap in the noon.
You nodding your head is drums to this flow,
kick-snare heartbeat, now the whole thing grows.

Your head goes boom, that’s percussion to me,
I hear rhythm in people, that’s production for free.
Every bounce, every move, every tap of your feet,
turns the silence around into part of the beat.

I’m not wrong, I’m Rong, put respect on the name,
one letter away but we don’t sound the same.
If I miss one note, I still aim for the flame,
turn fuck-ups into melodies, growth into game.

Life of a student, bag full of dreams,
half-finished notes and a head full of schemes.
Too many hobbies, still chasing the scenes,
but I make time for music ’cause music makes me.

I scroll in bed, saw a post kept me thinking all night,
blue light on my face while I’m searching for signs.
Everybody swipes past, but I sit with the line,
turn some random shit I saw into rhythm and rhyme.

I love to travel, see the world from a train,
new streets, new skies, new thoughts in my brain.
Take inspiration from the sun and the rain,
then I write what I feel till it turns into flame.

Different cities got different chords,
different faces got different stories.
I keep memories tucked in my notes,
then I bring them alive when the studio calls me.

I’m still young, still rough, still finding the pen,
still making a track then rewriting again.
But every place that I go, every post that I read,
adds a new little rhythm to the song in me.

I’m coming up quick but I’m taking my time,
got a thousand little thoughts doing laps in my mind.
I don’t need a crown, just a reason to rhyme,
just a beat with a bounce and some truth in the lines.

I’m the student in class with the headphones still,
writing one more bar while the world stands still.
And I know I got work, know I’m still on the climb,
but the flow got bounce and the pen got shine.

Might be Rong by name, but I’m right on time,
every verse that I write is a piece of my mind.
I been wrong, I been Rong, but I learned from the fall,
turned the no-good days into songs after all.

No beat for this part,
just breath,
just heart,
just words in the dark.

I can write lyrics,
sing lyrics,
hold a note till it turns into light.
And somewhere above me,
my grandpa plays flute through the night.

So I keep writing,
keep singing,
keep learning the sound.
R-O-N-G,
but I’m finding what’s right
every time I write it down.

Still learning, still moving,
still Rong,
still right.

N-G N-G N-G N-G,
R-O-N-G,
they say no good,
but that ain’t me.

This is R-O-N-G.

3865/7500

This is R-O-N-G, yeah, that’s Rong, but it feels right. R&B first, rap second, hip-hop in the bloodline. No script, no filter, just me talking my shit in the spotlight. My name’s Rong, yeah that’s right, but I never move wrong when I step to the mic. R&B in my soul, rap sharp like a bite, hip-hop in the room when I turn on the light. I make grooves for the heart, make the rhythm behave, put my thoughts in a song, let the whole thing wave. Only a student, still learning this shit, but I write for myself and the ones who commit. I’m inexperienced, yeah, but I’m building the sound, every rough little draft still holding me down. Making songs for myself, themself, people around, anybody who hears it and feels this shit somehow. Not tryna be perfect, I’m tryna be true, got a melody moving like it’s tying my shoes. If the beat feels warm and the bass feels smooth, then my flow makes you groove, makes your mood improve. I slide on the beat like the floor got wax, sing one line then I rap right back. Rong on the track but the feeling’s exact, if they say I’m off, I just call that facts ’cause I’m off the map. N-G N-G N-G N-G, hear the name bounce clean, R-O-N-G, but the “wrong” ain’t me. NG means no good? Nah, flip that scene, I turn no-good days into something that gleams. Got a flow so clean that it rinses the room, R&B moonlight, rap in the noon. You nodding your head is drums to this flow, kick-snare heartbeat, now the whole thing grows. Your head goes boom, that’s percussion to me, I hear rhythm in people, that’s production for free. Every bounce, every move, every tap of your feet, turns the silence around into part of the beat. I’m not wrong, I’m Rong, put respect on the name, one letter away but we don’t sound the same. If I miss one note, I still aim for the flame, turn fuck-ups into melodies, growth into game. Life of a student, bag full of dreams, half-finished notes and a head full of schemes. Too many hobbies, still chasing the scenes, but I make time for music ’cause music makes me. I scroll in bed, saw a post kept me thinking all night, blue light on my face while I’m searching for signs. Everybody swipes past, but I sit with the line, turn some random shit I saw into rhythm and rhyme. I love to travel, see the world from a train, new streets, new skies, new thoughts in my brain. Take inspiration from the sun and the rain, then I write what I feel till it turns into flame. Different cities got different chords, different faces got different stories. I keep memories tucked in my notes, then I bring them alive when the studio calls me. I’m still young, still rough, still finding the pen, still making a track then rewriting again. But every place that I go, every post that I read, adds a new little rhythm to the song in me. I’m coming up quick but I’m taking my time, got a thousand little thoughts doing laps in my mind. I don’t need a crown, just a reason to rhyme, just a beat with a bounce and some truth in the lines. I’m the student in class with the headphones still, writing one more bar while the world stands still. And I know I got work, know I’m still on the climb, but the flow got bounce and the pen got shine. Might be Rong by name, but I’m right on time, every verse that I write is a piece of my mind. I been wrong, I been Rong, but I learned from the fall, turned the no-good days into songs after all. No beat for this part, just breath, just heart, just words in the dark. I can write lyrics, sing lyrics, hold a note till it turns into light. And somewhere above me, my grandpa plays flute through the night. So I keep writing, keep singing, keep learning the sound. R-O-N-G, but I’m finding what’s right every time I write it down. Still learning, still moving, still Rong, still right. N-G N-G N-G N-G, R-O-N-G, they say no good, but that ain’t me. This is R-O-N-G.

0/500