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Son Of A Gun

by Miggs Son Daddy

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1.
(Miggs) Take some chalk and draw a circle surrounding the ceremony Light a candle and place it directly in the center for me This is the story of glory and riches, dormant with all of your wishes Exploring more than what’s written, sometimes is morbid and wicked Orbital thinkin’ interested in different perspectives Infinite dimensions, shifting the spectrum, lessons and questions ‘Cause the ego in you, it recognizes the evil in you I believe it, ‘cause I’ve seen what that power turns people into Read a little past the preface- see it’s not what you expected My method’s reflective of the bigger picture, no singular section Literary tools equipped, lunatic, think I’m losin’ it Cooler than Ferris Bueller, I’m too legit, Fuck the stupid shit This is my rubric written in ruby ink for you to get Ya molecules in sync with the luminous way I’m groovin’ it Super sick with the venom while you marvel at the villain I’m carvin’ initials in him with a disc like I was Krillin Fillin’ cracks with a lyrical spackle- what a spectacular tactic Radical, graphic palette, suggestive, progressive, yet classic Blasphemous basilisk, even my breath is miraculous This passage is sacrilege, but my raps are immaculate Burnin’ Cannabis Sativa with leaders from other planets Seated lavish, drinkin’ Cab out of chalices, eatin’ Ceasar salads Feasible matters to those who easily shatter, yo Repeatin’ this blabber could possibly lead to the Rapture Barbarian stature, chillin’ like a bear with a Bachelor’s In a chair with a backwards hat, and a pair of flappers bearing their flappers Rappers actin’ funny, practicing wackness for money If your askin’ Sonny, all I say is, “Fuck it, man. Pass me a Dutchie…”
2.
Not A Rapper 04:24
(Miggs) I kick flows to make your speakers blow Unbelievable! In fact, im a myth like the nematode But it ain’t nothin’ Funny I create material and make it disappear like Mysterio So… what’chu want, dunny? Miggs Sonny picks chicks, give ‘em dick, I’m a bit nutty Give me lip, and I’ll show you the punishment Pun style, “Ooh, nice blouse. Let me unbutton it” Come and get it, I let it off like a missle Unpredictable, I know, but the fitted’s always official I know what you need. Hit the Dutch and breathe And stick with me like the sticky green from the Lifted Tree I’m LRG, I transcend the medium But you don’t understand the meaning of what I’m meaning, um To put it straight, I make tapes for the Gods’ taste My mind spray and sling more yae than Scarface (Hook) Now I ain’t got a whole lot to say But hey, I’m not a rapper I just talk a lot I ain't really so good with hooks But look, I'm not a rapper I just rhyme a lot They're like "Miggs, you should be a superstar" But na, I'm not a rapper I just rap a lot I spit raps that bring the essence back We the best at that, F.E.Beast on an instrumental track And it ain’t nothin’ sweet I’ll beat an MC, leaving nothin’ but his teeth, like the Cheshire Cat Jack… what’chu tryin’ to accomplish? I polish demonic logic and drop it like catastrophic atomics Bombin’ college crowds with knowledge that’s not allowed In the criteria, cafeteria or the housing grounds Now how that sound, fucker? Harder than the guitar, but smoother than butter Go and find another rhymer that’s hotter with the saliva I get liver when I’m wired, kick a verse, ignite a fire You might see me smile, I advise you not to get it twisted A collision with me will leave you crippled, crooked and shifted You’re finished… I diminish the biggest and baddest Verbally vaporize him and make him vanish (Hook) Now I ain’t got a whole lot to say But hey, I’m not a rapper I just spit a lot I ain't really so good with hooks But look, I'm not a rapper I just smoke a lot They're like "Miggs, you should be a superstar" But na, I'm not a rapper I just draw a lot I illustrate iller than who you imitate Innovate at an elevated mental state And it ain’t nothin’ meant to sophisticate If you can’t get it straight, you’re not meant to assimilate Hey… it’s not your everyday, average I’m not a rapper, I’m an artist, who happens to be a master Microphone controller, move the crowd with the steadiest hand Anyone try to battle, I’ll strip ‘em of 21 grams See the man in the flesh, and the rest are forgotten Rotten Apple, all across the world, ain’t a force that could stop him M-I-double G’s in effect! I know you’re hearin’ it, though I hope you’re feelin’ the flow, it’s so spiritual I could bring the realness back with just one track So turn it up as loud as it goes and just bump that I design timeless rhymes with the wave of a pen So timeless, you should bring it back and play it again (Hook) Now I ain’t got a whole lot to say But hey, I’m not a rapper I just fuck a lot I ain't really so good with hooks But look, I'm not a rapper I just eat a lot They're like "Miggs, you should be a superstar" But na, I'm not a rapper I just read a lot
3.
You 03:52
(Miggs) You could’ve been the one to make me write a love song We were best friends ever since we were freshmen You looked good enough to eat with a fork But I had a girlfriend that I keep in New York And we were tryin’ to work it out, but it wasn’t workin’ out Plus I couldn’t help staring every time you’re working out And to be clear, I ain’t the type to be cheatin’ But every weekend, we would hit the pool. your body had me geekin’ You would always hear me speakin’ heated on the phone Stressed ‘cause my girl felt she needed me at home Pissed ‘cause I’m growin’ and she wasn’t growin’ with me And I thought that if I broke it off, then you could be my chick, see I could do it quickly, just give me the Summer But it’s a bummer, ‘cause you already started givin’ out your number We never expressed all the feelings that were under the flirtin’ So all I could do is wonder what’s never been certain (Hook) You had this new dude who should’ve been X’d But it ain’t my place, so I thought it’s best if I step to the next I was chillin’, single and livin’ iller Hittin’ butter-pecan, chocolate, even delivered vanilla But still I noticed you in this shitty relationship You deserve better, he ain’t appreciating shit I thought “Damn, what you wastin’ your love for?” I’m no Pro, but you should’ve been lookin’ at the front door You knew what the Son saw in you, didn’t you? I told you I could treat you better, you thought I was kiddin’ you That old familiar feeling was never lost So every lady that didn’t entertain me got tossed Besides, I was getting wrapped up in rap stuff We’d party and act up, I’d spark trees and splash cups I never thought you’d be excited a bit Until I caught you watchin’ me perform, bitin’ your lip (Hook) You knew you wouldn’t be the one to make the first move And I knew it too… What should I do? I caught you off guard with a kiss and left you frozen St. Pat’s- they napped while we dove in Head first- and graduated to infatuated rather rapidly That’s the way we naturally gravitated We had out doubts, things we couldn’t control like People said it’s wrong, but nothin’ ever felt so right You had your whole life planned out I’m that beard bearin’ barbarian no one wants to tell their fam ‘bout I ran south with a particular vision But now a division is forcing me to come to a decision Should I stay, play, color and throw it away? Or should I go, where who knows, we’ll probably grow old? I know we chose smart You had my whole heart But now it’s over, so I’ll use our story for dope art
4.
(Miggs) Welcome to the show folks! I’m your host MC Miggy D, yo let’s start with a toast Peace to the Gods, Earths, Moon and the Stars But it’s the one and only Son who got the grooviest bars I know you felt it! Psychedelic relics from my felt-tip Demented mental, masterfully presented So respect it- the way we chef’d it, eclectic So unpredictable, not even Spidey could sense it I’m fly… like fresh dog shit in the Summer Fly like a blue shell and the kid was a plumber I need a rubber, I’m a motherfucker, son of a gun A troublemaker, lover and a hater bundled in one (Electric Grandma) Once we hit the lights, u know it's just begun You gotta try to catch him, ‘cause he's on the run He's on another level and there's none above He's a son of a gun You know he's not a rapper and it's just for fun But everybody's sayin’ that he's number one Oh, how i love him, he is such a stud He's a son of a gun (Miggs) So check it! The smooth operator of flavor Tellin’ sonic tales, jams make you earl on your Sega Sharp as a razor, but still dazed in confused Blazin’ the blue, these are my brainwaves wavin’ to you They say, “What up, shen? How you like this Freaky production?” And the Grandma cameo is like an alien abduction Slammin’ grammar on percussion is nothin’ Cheeky said we needed a hit, so I nailed it like hammers and construction No frontin’. Cheeky the God, what’s good? (Werd Life) I'ma get it, I ain't playin', I'm just sayin' we should Be on top of this game, crowd screamin' out name F dot! Beats that knock, yo Freak, let's bop God. (Freak Tha Monsta) I'm ridin' on a classic presidential Wavin' flavor to game We go beyond while yall amazingly plane A style you can sense from a mile off the bench Somethin' funky for you suckas make you smile off the stench (F.E.B.) Ayo we in there Fuck anybody who swims near It seems we got it sewn yo That's word to my chin hair Check the brimwear - fitted hat, kick, snare Horn for the flare and I'm Sonny, so click "share" There! Givin' you the rare and the raw "Well done!" said the crowd as they stand and applaud Fans of the Gods stampede and ram in the door It's undstandable yall… (Electric Grandma) I’m electric! flowin' thru ya bodily connections I'm just wreckin' and mic checkin' a second, i'm light-steppin' Messin' with you like inception in night sessions stretchin my wings in flight lessons...
5.
(Hook) Mo' honeys, mo' problems, mo' drama right? I hit the kitten, now she wanna stick right by my side I'm sorry baby, but I think it's time you take ya ride I gotta go, I'm runnin' late to see my other slide (Miggs) Ayo mama- I could be ya own doctor Miggs the physician, I'm fixin' ya holes up so proper Patch 'em and stitch em. Fill em out like backshot prescriptions Leave it soakin' like Jersey after the tragic conditions Honestly, I don't mean to be the type to blow my own horn so Could you do it for me like a porno? And also- You work ya torso like a pro I just want you to know that as soon as we're finished It's off you go. (Werd Life) Yo. Shake baby Sh-sh-sh-shake mami. Said she love it when I ram it Way I brake her body She comfortable with me. Taught her how to roll the piffy 50 or better, she wetter. Make her so naughty So nasty, love it when the kitty swole up Real vulgar when I poke her Make her super-soaker Hold up! Mami, won't you get a fatty Roll up. Don't F with hoodlums like him That's what her daddy told her (Hook) (Werd Life) We get it on, she know that my game is strong Plus claim that I got her sprung, she don't mind I do her wrong, na As long as she get to see me. So thirsty, she said she need me I'm busy, she don't believe me She caught me cheatin', but still she would never leave me I guess she just loves to please me Who said that pimpin' ain't easy Big Daddy Kane. She gladly came over Then she gladly came... over, and over, and over again She must've loved it, 'cause she told her friends I find it hard, decisions in which to call Supply the court, I'll so gracefully bring the balls Check up! Shorty, she knows what's next up Before we get to scorin', she gotta work from her neck up Let's cut. Easily busy bee get the nectar Don't know her name, I saved it under "Might text her" (Miggs) Now ya body's official I'll rip ya clothes off like it's made of tissue Hit you up the middle with the missle 'til you're sittin' crippled Hypnotized. Lucky I missed ya eye with my big surprise 99 problems, one of 'em isn't size I get inside and hide like I'm Saddam with bombs I'm dead wrong, but you're blinded by charm, huh? I rhyme on, but ya grabbin' my arm hard Talkin' about a child that I'm not down to but 5 on So bop on- 'cause a ring ain't my thing But I need a queen to spend a night with the king and my ding-a-ling I swing like Vince Vaughn, make hits like Tony Gwynn I'm phonin' 'em in. Bone 'em, make 'em moan with a grin Stoned again in the morning Head, coffee, eggs, bacon, grapefruit and orange Lookin' at the sky like it's about to be storming So I'll be a gentlemen and drop you off at the corner, bitch (Hook)
6.
(Miggs) SupercalifragilisticexpialiDOPESHIT! This super crack attacks you, hits you, wrestles with your nose quick Ear wax wick lit, tropical sick shit Load a bowl of golden grams and hit it, it’s delicious Fly with the fishes, swim with the birds I’m in the kitchen like a witchdoctor sprinklin’ herbs In the Dutch Master. Puff it, ready for lunch after Must’ve snuck past you like a ninja, nun-chuck slap you I’m not a rapper, I just speak dope Chief dro like a fire-breathin’ dragon blowing green smoke Fee-fi-fo-fum, beanstalk altitude Attitude like “fuck it” smack 3 coins out you dudes Bonus points for breaking bones at the joints You know the boy is royal, hear the gold in my voice No roids, just juice, a mic and a booth Rhymin' like a dynamite, just light it then ‘poof’ (Hook) Scribblin’ thoughts appear on the page vividly Secretly conceived, don’t tell the Magical Ministry The energy of creativity synergy is filling me You’re little league, playin’ Hurcules, Smalls your killin’ me Elemental trilogy. Dope Sand Clan And the Orbital Ring Tribe travels no-man’s land Before time, space, even the atom I dabbled in the miraculous, manifested the planet I battled the massive Kraken and wrangled him by his tentacles Smacked him, sent him home and said, “Son, eat your vegetables!” Pump up the decibels, dump guts in receptacles I don’t give a fuck, son I’m speaking from the ventricles Son Daddy- some call him a ruffian… Especially the ladies when they say they want it rough again Jugglin’ jugs, I’m a drawer-droppin’ gigolo Jiggle my balls all over Beyonce Don’t let Jigga know (Hook)
7.
8.
The Core 03:36
(Miggs) Patterns are fatter than matter beyond a solid platter Gaseous, metallic, liquidly miracle magic Sporadic panic transformed to proportional portions Causin' commotion contorting without contorting to normal Neither novel nor auto, this audio aura Surrounds you and channels your core While matching the crack with the raw I peak through the crack of the door That i smashed with an ax like Jack 'Cause the back of my brain is blacker than that Of an attic with bats. In fact I can get darker than that Show up in your thoughts as you're startin' to nap Twist back ya fit' cap, mind in a spiral Activate your pineal with neon lines in ya spinal Rhyme's organic, evolved and sounds fun And my whole planet revolves around the Son A powerful tongue and loud lungs As I round up dope beats, stunts and wild blunts (Hook) This is heart-core rap No anatomical chart can me the part Where the God thought that I manifest art with a spark and a fusion And when I'm on the mic, I got ya particles movin' My mind is intertwined with vines Exposed to roses that grow off of gold shrines Stoned rhyme diamond in the rough Too much to clutch if you're not metaphysically in touch enough What the fuck?! Frequencies freakin' you Shockin' ya chakras, rock grooves that'll jostle your posture I'm pretty positive I'm popular But then again, I possibly invented all my friends in my head I'm probably dead. Or at least in another dimension Not to mention the conversation with Satan When I promised I'd save him I was awakened from a revelationary daydream Drownin' in a bottle of Jamaican and drivin' to Macon Shaken and stirred, nerves tangle, words slur Kern off-kilter, pixelated, inverted and blurred Burn after reading.... This is a Top Secret, pot-reeking, hot, steaming crock of genius I won't stop speakin' prophetic nonsense For you to digest, so fuck it- try your best I didn't plan it, but apparently I planted my planet In granite, ran it through the horse hair and managed to brand it If you can understand it, man I'd be shocked When I handle the rock, I pop ya canopy top I manifest art, spark hearts in dark marsh Sharp bars so fierce they pierce through car parts Ring the alarm, time to wake up If you can relate - straight. If not, ya takin' space up So just stay shut and let the bass bump Feel it in ya center, let it echo 'til ya days up (Hook)
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Ordinary Guy 03:14
13.

about

'Son Of A Gun' is the debut solo album from Savannah, GA-based MC, Miggs. The 13-track album was almost fully produced by his brother, Freak Tha Monsta with additional production from some Savannah-based collaborators. There is also live instrumentation through out the album to provide a more genuine feel to the music. 'Son Of A Gun' is packed with diverse features, fresh beats and animated lyricism from beginning to end.

'Son Of A Gun' is a hip-hop album executed by a natural visual artist. Each song was crafted to illustrate an atmosphere, story or message. Utilizing the same elements as in visual design, Miggs uses composition, balance of light and dark values, clean line work and a whole lot of colors to create a uniquely personal experience.

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released May 19, 2014

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about

Miggs Son Daddy Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Miggs was born and raised in NY and is currently based out of Savannah, GA. He delivers quality, thought-provoking vocals over a vast range of musical canvases. After a successful debut with 'Son Of A Gun' Miggs is continually producing progressive music and bringing it to bigger stages.

Discography:
'Son Of A Gun' (2014)
'Beyond The Elements' (2014) 'Happy Thoughts' (2016)
'SPEAKS' (2016)
... more

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