Fire Inside (prod. by WiseOne)

from by Rayce

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Some lyrical acrobatics with meaning. Whether or not they make sense may depend on the listener. Hit me up if you would like clarification and suches...


Verse One
Well this is awkward... The speed flow I had written didn't quite pop off like I wanted. Verbal acrobat, colonel in the last stand, matchbook, last stem, strikin' with a fat chance. A spark in the dark, only to realize the eagle eye is still flyin', circlin' a vantage point inconspicuous. The trick is to get hip to this hypnotist. Bags under my eyes, been up on some tweaker shit (not really!). Never take a hit, take a hint. Sobriety has really been a long road to self growth in a choke hold with a boatload of reservations. Only 22, what you mean I can't smoke, drink or get wasted?! Where's the fun in life if I can't taste it? Who are you to decide what makes sense? Pebbles in a pond never float, too dense, but they skip a bit before disappearing from the surface...

Real life: we all want a piece, so I speak over beats like it's just you and me. This fire inside wants to escape, and I think I just might want the same... (X2)

Verse Two
Cannot extinguish what nature bred, I am Darwinian with every single last breath. Spontaneous, the anger is an anchor, aimed full steam for the ones you had faith in. Gloves are off now, no soft pows. What you mean I need a team? Got a couple cool pals... Recordin' where they keep firearms close; don't wanna have to be an RIP on someone's clothes. Rather be a RAYCE piece done by Roght, on the front of those tees, send'em to your spot. Slap a couple stickers with no faces in the picture, if you see me on the scene I am probably oblivious. Team no team, sorry not sorry, watchin' Ancient Aliens wishin' I was around for Atari. Before Xboxs watched our every move and we took direction from false-flag news...

Chorus (X2)

Verse Three
Verbally swervin', curvin' at a manic rate. You would think I was goin' crazy at full sprint pace! An Olympian trippin' before the finish line, gimme mine. Eyes on the prize, unwilling to compromise! Heard of sacrifice? Might wanna try it. Over-saturated market, think I wanna diet. Killin' beef like I got my own slaughterhouse. Whats it really matter when I'm hear to move mountains anyhow? Get off the couch, you're not the guy from Half Baked. Even if you were, I'm not here to share a damn thang! Known for bein' rude, only child attitude. You halt, while I'm tryna stay up on the move; on my Armstrong hustle, man I'm tryna tour the moon!


from You're Not Invited​.​.​., released December 20, 2013
Written by Rayce
Produced by Wise One
Recorded at One Mic Wreckords



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Rayce Ventura, California

A Hip Hop emcee out of the 805 (Ventura/Oxnard). From touring overseas to collaborating with international artists, Rayce has been building a name in the Hip Hop scene by promoting a style all his own. Rayce brings his listeners an uncut, raw insight not only into his life but to the observations he has taken throughout his life. At 22 the sky is the limit for this young yet professional lyricist. ... more

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