#funnily enough it doesn't hurt at all its just a numbness to it that makes me slightly uncomfortable

[prettyymafia]

i ran into the wall few mins ago and now i have two deep slashes inside of my upper lip lol

[yumejo]

Ok I've been thinking about this for Days now

It's so funny, the way both nazuna and I know how important it is to love someone right

It's so funny how we both know how it feels to be told and/or tell ourselves that we are loved, but we both know how well it hurts us, to be raised without the emotional support that we need.

His parents weren't there. His dad, like mine funnily enough, wasn't physically there for most of the time. (Got up early and came home later for dinner since he worked so much) his mom didn't really compensate for that, else he would've probably mentioned somewhere how she meant a lot to him (she does not, he only mentions what I can presume to be his mom's expectation to be cute, shared among the community probably) nobody filled that gap, while he likely lived a comfortable life, his parents weren't special to him. Of course he knows people have it worse, not enough to live comfortably. But he rarely mentions his parents- in fact, he mentions his religion more than his parents- and that says something about their lack of presence in his life- probably enough to stop him from forming a grudge but not enough to be special to him. And then we all know how the thing with shu went, but this whole topic deserves an essay

Anyways, like him, just sharing to make a point, my parents aren't that special to me, in the sense that I don't have much of an emotional attachment to them. My dad traveled 5/7 days of most weeks for years, only now its weird because sometimes he'll be home for weeks straight and it's so weird. But my mom just doesn't know how to make an emotional connection to me. I get she takes care of my health, takes me to places I need to be, buys me things I need.

But what's in common is that both our parents never got to know us, despite being both only children. And this wasn't meant to be a rant, but a really interesting comparison and perhaps I'm sort of numb to it all

Though where we differ, despite having suffered the same unfortunate situation, is like how we handled it... nazuna chose to explore his inside, who he is, and he's still doing that today. In his search for himself, he met a lot of people to help him realize about himself to build a connection with people he wants to build.

And for me, I look outside- what can I achieve, how can I look for other people to approach me. How can I be cool and successful, so that it's good for everyone to build a meaningful relationship.

It's so starkly different when you look it like that, and of course we both do what the other does (nazuna still looks to achieve and help others, and I still look to discover my relationship with myself)

And it's so interesting that how both he and I understand the effects of doing so, why we're so scared to change without notice, yet why we know we have to grow and that it's so important to know that between us

Sorry for the more deep thoughts I'll be return with silly thoughts soon

some people don't understand the impact emotional neglect can have on a child; just because you provide your child with the physical things they need to take care of themselves, doesn't mean you're giving your kid everything they need. i'm actually super passionate about this sort of thing, as well, but only by extension of my mom and how she was brought up with my grandma (only mentioning it to let you know i can understand 100% where you're coming from, to both you and nazuna).

for you and nazuna, don't you think you two just complete each other in ways you can only fulfill for each other? you understand each other, and nazuna can offer you advice you don't often turn to—and vice-versa, you do that for him!

sometimes nazuna gets wrapped up in the heat of the moment, and loses himself; and who better to remind him once more of who he is than his beloved? the person who's always watching him and others?

and what about you? you got along really well with that person, he seen how you were able to steadily open up, and you should keep doing that. trust in that person, slowly; be yourself one step at a time. and it's okay to fumble, to revert back and hide when you're scared—you came out of your comfort zone, he'll tell you, isn't that something alone to be celebrated?

[sunpopp]

Warm to The Touch | {CCH}

→ Summary; it's not often that Chanhee gets sick, but when he does, he's a very big crybaby about it. That, or he really is in as much pain as he says he is—regardless that leaves you to take care of him, and funnily enough, it has its perks.

• WC/genre: 2K of smut + fluff

• Includes/cw: Chanhee being sick and reader taking care of him, no kissies on lips 😔, sub!Chanhee, gn!reader, fingering (m receiving), dick neglection (?), handjobs, brief praise, aftercare

Riding the bus wasn't your favorite thing to do, but it was soothing if you were in the right mood.

Sadly, you weren't. Mostly due to the fact that Chanhee was quite literally blowing up your phone with texts asking how much longer it'd take you to be off the train and on your way with his precious medicine, making you sigh and roll your eyes before shooting him a reply that you'd be there soon, but knowing nothing would calm him down until you were in front of him to prove it.

You can't help but smile.

Chanhee didn't complain much about anything, besides maybe you not helping him with washing the dishes or set the table while he made dinner, but everything else was, at most, a dirty look that softened relatively quickly. Sickness, though, was a whole other ballgame.

He would rant and rave about the tiniest of phantom pains, practically on the male equivalent of his period with the way his mood would get snappy and sour at the slightest inconveniences.

But maybe he really did just have a shit pain tolerance like he'd often hint at. Though it didn't stop you from still being baffled when he'd get a bad cramp in the middle of the night and whine about it until he'd fall asleep again.

Coming back to reality as you glance up to the bus's nearing destination, you stretch lazily and begin to stand, muscles aching from walking all day and back cracking loud enough for you to wonder if other people heard it. The bus slows to a stop before finally lurching against the sidewalk, and you take your leave through the opening doors with an appreciative thanks to the driver.

Almost immediately after you hop down from the steps, a layering of chilly wind washes harshly against your front and the familiar smell of petrichor into your nose, relentless rain droplets against your coat as you begin in a jog in the direction of your apartment. Chanhee must be freezing right now, you think, concern growing even heavier at the visible breaths of air you let out. If he's already got the sniffles, a sore throat, and headaches, he's probably getting worse considering you'd forgotten to turn the heater on before you left.

Stupid mistake.

It takes maybe a couple more minutes, less than it'd take if you were walking like normal, before you're finally at your door, punching in the code for the lock before shouldering it open and kicking off your shoes on the shoe rack. It's cold inside, you can tell by the way your cheeks still feel numb.

"Chanhee! I got your medicine!" Your words echo throughout the hall, spreading out when you keep calling his name as you move farther in; past the open kitchen and to the bedroom door opposite the bathroom.

When you come into the room, Chanhee is still in the bed where he was when you left, but this time, he's sat up, looking at you with hooded eyes and a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He frowns, "It's about time. While I was here suffering, you were out with your friends. Unbelievable..," he pouts and shakes his head.

With a chuckle and now eased posture, you sit in front of him and set the bag of medicine beside you to check his temperature. He's extremely hot.

"Yeah, well, staying around you while you're sick is enough to drive me crazy so you can't really pin the blame on me for needing to leave. Plus, it's not like you tried to stop me, did you?" You smile at him, standing back up to go run him a lukewarm bath.

"I was asleep!"

"Your problem, not mine!"

___

"Alright, up you go."

"Ah, but my whole body hurts..."

"Too bad, you're sweating a bunch and you haven't done anything to clean yourself yet."

Another tug of Chanhee's hands, and he's stumbling into your arms with a raspy groan at the jerky movement. You pat his back, pecking his damp forehead, then drag him to the bathroom.

"Can you undress yourself or do you need my help with everything?" You half-joke.

"Don't be rude, it's actually hard for me to do a lot of things," Chanhee utters bitterly, but he does manage to pull his shirt over his head, albeit with your help, as well as his pants and boxers before stepping into the water.

"Or maybe you're just fragile as hell and the smallest things have you bedridden for a week."

"Oh my god I'm gonna-"

"Hush, princess, you won't do anything," you find yourself laughing as you lower yourself to your knees beside the tub, folding your arms on the side before resting your cheek atop them, "Just relax, okay? I know you're too tired to argue right now, so let yourself calm down for a couple."

He thankfully doesn't protest, and takes your advice for once; letting himself fall against the back of the bathtub and close his eyes, the sigh through his nose an indication that he's allowing himself to enjoy the water. He looks so peaceful like this. Doll-like eyelashes fluttering against smooth, heated cheeks, and head slowly lolling to face you.

You feel yourself reach out. You know it's happening, but you don't stop it when you run a hand through Chanhee's bangs, then swipe a thumb past his eyelid to trail to his nose, then lips.

He opens his eyes, but doesn't say anything, even if he probably finds it strange. He lets you touch him.

"You're very pretty," you mumble whilst pouring water onto his head using the wash bucket on the back surface of the bathtub. Drops trickle down into mini patterns on his face, and he drags a hand over it to clear them away.

"Even while sick?" He raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised at your answer.

You comb the water into his hair to wet it as you nod, "Even while sick."

Chanhee smiles, "So, how was your day out?"

"It was nice. Found a perfect place where I'd love to take you, actually."

"Oh? Where?"

"The bone zone-"

"Oh my god, you're so annoying!"

You erupt into a fit of laughter as Chanhee swats a hand at you, getting some of your shirt and arm wet where you shield yourself from his little attack. You pinch his cheek, flashing a toothy grin, "Oh, come on! That was a good one and you know it. Smooth as ever if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, and you're the only one saying so," He pouts, pulling away from your pinchy fingers and trying his best to hide the steadily growing smirk that threatens to break his face into a smile. Stubborn as always, you see.

"You can leave now," Chanhee gives you a pointed look.

"Alright, alright. I'll be in the bedroom awaiting any further commands, your highness," You shake your head, and make a grand display of leaving the room and him to his own privacy.

Chanhee doesn't take long in the bath anyway, so you knew you wouldn't have to wait long as you fall back against the bed, shifting around until you've made yourself comfortable against the strewn navy covers. You spare a glance out the window pressed against your side; still raining, and still bathed in a silver glow from the blanketing clouds. It'd make you kind of sad, if not melancholic, but you were in a good mood from coming home, so at the most, you were calm.

Calm, even when Chanhee emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam a half hour later, only wearing a pink striped button up pajama shirt and matching bottoms, hands raised above his head whilst he dries his hair with a small towel. He comes to a stop in front of you.

"There he is," you exclaim, looking up from your phone and patting the spot next to you with a mischievous glint in your eye, "C'mere."

"I wonder why I'm hesitating," he says, and you can practically feel the the sarcasm in his words.

"Because hot people make you nervous? Duh."

"Are you insinuating that you're hot?"

That's your queue.

Leaning forward, you grab Chanhee's wrist and tug him into your chest, causing him to stumble slightly, but you catch him and pull him flush against you. A flurry of kisses to his face, excluding his lips, ensue.

Chanhee squirms around in your arms and acts like he doesn't like the affection at first, but a few more seconds of the same treatment prove true to his soft side when he goes limp and begins to giggle at the ticklish feel of your butterfly pecks.

Oh, that giggle. How you loved to hear it; sweet and beautiful like the chime of the prettiest bell in your ears.

You pull him on top of you as you relax against the crevice where the mattress meets the wall, and rest your cheek on the top of his head, humming, "You saying that I'm not hot?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Kidding."

"No you weren't."

"Yes I was."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You- Hush!" Chanhee covers your mouth finally and you chuckle against his palm at his feeble attempt to silence you.

You press a kiss to it instead of bickering further, causing him to soften. Just then, you realize something as you touch down his wrist.

"Woah, has your fever not died down at all? You're even starting to sweat a little bit again, too..."

Your suspicions prove true when a closer inspection at the ruddy skin flushed from his cheeks down to his chest and heavier-than-normal breathing indicates that he's still hot, or at least overheated.

"Here," you murmur, already shifting him on his back so you can easily unclasp the buttons of his shirt, "Are you in any pain or is it still just the sore throat?"

"The headache I had earlier is starting to come back. It's getting worse, but that's about it so don't worry, I'll be fine," Chanhee tries his hand at reassurance, you can tell, but it doesn't do anything to stop you from crawling over him to scurry into the kitchen.

"I'm getting you some water, hang on!" You call out from down the hall, making quick work of filling up a decently sized glass before you return to him with some painkillers as well. He barely manages to sit up when you reach him; his face scrunching at the obvious pain that's beginning to hit him tenfold as he gratefully takes the pills and throws his head back when he tosses them in his mouth, chasing them with the cold glass of water you provided.

"Ah, it's actually really starting to hurt...," Chanhee whimpers and at the sound, you slide back into the bed to pepper his face with pecks once again. He's grateful for the comfort, if the way he gently drapes his arm over your shoulder says anything.

"Oh, my poor baby," you coo lowly, feeling the goosebumps on his back that prickle at your tone, "Is there anything I can do to make it better? Did you already take your medicine?"

"Yeah.. still hurts.."

"I can tell," you snort and trail a finger down Chanhee's sternum, looping it back up to flick at one of his nipples. He jolts, and you can't help but give a cheeky smirk, "Even your nipples have taken on somewhat of a hue. I wonder what other places are doing the same thing...," your words would hold suggestion to even the most clueless of people, spoken through lips now slicked with saliva as you roll your tongue across the tinted flesh and lower your head for a taste of his exposed breast.

"Ah!" Chanhee gasps loudly and his fingers find purchase on the back of your head, his body trembling when he arches his chest up into your face, searching for more when his mouth fails to ask you such a favor.

Teasing his nipple with a gentle nip before pulling away to kiss it instead, you caress his narrow waist, "You said it hurts, no?"

"It does...," Chanhee pants and nods as fast as his throbbing head will allow him.

"Where does it hurt most, baby? Tell me," You wet your fingers with a quick swipe of your tongue then reach under his lower half to slide your hand into his shorts, Chanhee helping you by taking one leg out, and glide down the seam of his ass to tease his rim, "Here?"

"Y-yes..!" you chuckle when he huffs and flings both arms around your head, pulling you close into him and meeting your forehead as he grinds down against your digits.

"Awe, look at you..."

And look at him indeed; Chanhee is already a mess before you. Staring at you with those big watery doe eyes of his, and silently pleading for you to continue doing things to his body that has him feeling like bursting.

You give him exactly what he wants.

Pushing your finger into him, slowly due to how tight the fit is, you press sloppy kisses to the underside of his jaw. The reaction Chanhee gives is a familiar one, with sensual lips dropped open to let out a high-pitched moan and legs trembling as he holds them open for you, fighting to not shut his eyes upon feeling you enter him.

"Good," you drawl, tilting your wrist at an angle once your index and pinkie meet the backs of Chanhee's thighs and gently curling your fingers upwards, "Just like that, baby. Is this okay? Are you okay?" Your eyes search his face for discomfort, and though you don't find any, you still your movements.

He nods and nuzzles against the top of your head with his cheek, "Mm-hm. Keep going, please."

You start back up at his polite request, as much as you love hearing him ask for more of something, and begin to drag the pads of your fingers back and fourth alongside his walls until you feel the telltale firmness of his prostate, then start on massaging it.

"Ah!" He emits a short, melodical whine at the burst of sensation now seething within him. It drives him one step from crazy as he scrunches his face and unconsciously slaps at your shoulder in a sort of mid-euphoria result.

You huff out a half-laugh, sitting back on your knees so you can get a better view of what you're doing, "Good?"

Chanhee tries to use his words, but by the way you pin him down to the bed with a palm flat against his collarbone before speeding up your hand, he can only manage a broken sob. It's followed by another of the same needy type, but this time, it's louder and causes your stomach to all but flip at the sound. Chanhee throws his head back, thrashing this way and that to somewhat get away from the overwhelming feeling, but also pushing down against it at the same time; all the while your hand keeps him in place.

"I'll take that as a yes," you jest, mostly to yourself because Chanhee sure isn't listening, then bend down slightly to finally turn your focus to his weeping cock. It's full-blooded from being hard for so long, angry red at the tip and jumping every once in a while, especially when you open your mouth to lick a strip from the base to the head.

"P-please I can't! You're gonna make me cum!" Chanhee rushes to sit up, but you push him back down as soon as he tries. He looks absolutely horrified at being so close already.

"And what's the problem with that?"

"I-I just- I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh, baby," You take your hand from his chest in favor of jerking him off, which he all but chokes at, "It doesn't disappoint me at all. I find it very hot, actually."

"Plea-ease..! Oh!" Chanhee wails one final time before he lets go all over your hand.

It covers your knuckles, dripping white down the side of your thumb as you keep stroking him to help him ride it out. The orgasm must've hit him hard, you think when you look up to see Chanhee shuddering in time with the aftershocks that zap his body every few seconds, eyes closed and skin dewy with a sheen of perspiration.

"Hey, come back to me. You alright? Does your head still hurt?"

He takes a moment to open his eyes, but when they roll open and find your face, he does something that catches you off-guard. He latches himself onto your front, straddling your lap, and rests his head over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Chanhee, hang on a bit, my hand's still dirty and I need to clean you up-"

"In a second. I'm tired."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Mm, I don't feel like talking right now."

"... You are such a handful."

@vanillaknj @stealerhwa1

[thefreshfinds]

P.Dot: The Separation

By: Natalee Gilbert

Once the "uhn" escapes from his lips, P.Dot goes off with rhymes and reason.

As he caters to the highest form of himself, P.Dot keeps in mind that spreading the word is imperative. And so, P.Dot ventures into his gangsta appeal for those who didn't get the message. By popular demand, he supplies the hip-hop scene with what it needs. Through means of realness, P.Dot claps back at clout chasers and weeds out the fakes (while sprinkling some of that greenery in a wrap of course). Likewise, he opens up to soundscapes about the hard-knock life. And although his days might be numbered, P.Dot still makes them count. Overrall, P.Dot uses an impressive way of thinking in witty punchlines, grit and worldy advice. Thus, creating that "shock-and-awe" effect throughout the listen. Although some try throwing shade, the MC doesn't let it interfere with his light. As mentioned in part 101 of his weekly segment, #BARSFROMTHECAR, P.Dot remains solid and never folds because it’s easy to bend. “Class is in session, you ain't dealing with a substitute." P.Dot adds.

P.Dot's latest album, THE SEPARATION stresses others to find the silver lining in every scenario. At times reflective, each track serves as an outlet. Essentially, the album's theme revolves around betrayal, lost even love. But in turn, THE SEPARATION encourages others to work on theirselves rather than dwell on another’s actions. Thanks to the album's dark, eerie soundscape P.Dot is able to strike fear into his enemies. Likewise, P.Dot also uses clever ties when facing a partly sampled beat. For instance, "50/50" uses a snippet of Drake's production in "Free Smoke." Taking it further, P.Dot says in this phrase "I got pistols for n*ggas that want smoke about it." as a play on "Free Smoke's" underlying message. On the whole, THE SEPARATION comes loaded with assertive 808's, rhymes and features who keep the same energy. P.Dot adds "Words were always powerful to me. I learned how and why they affected me. Then, learned how to evoke the same feelings I got from other people's words into mine."

Starting off, "50/50" helps all listeners get the gist of THE SEPARATION. With a pistol for "n*ggas that want smoke about it," P.Dot comes gully through the speaker about those who clout chase. Besides this, "50/50" adds a flair to Drake's song "Free Smoke." by speeding up the tempo with slits of heavy base. Regardless he's good. All he's focused on the green and staying clear of phonies.

With urgency, “LAWD HAVE MERCY” tells the human race to be more attentive. Turning back the hands of time, P.Dot addresses through cut-throat rhymes police brutality and racism. In “LAWD HAVE MERCY's" backdrop, wails induce the pain felt by our people. Together with drums and an elevating harmony, listeners are struck with fear. Little do they know, African Americans deal with this on a daily basis. Aside from this, P.Dot pays homage to those who’ve died because of their skin color. He also shows off Black excellence with a subtle flex. And even pokes at the brain of others. Ultimately, “LAWD HAVE MERCY” says in mid-phrase that “we may fall down but we still get up.” Just like the emcee's previous work, “LAWD HAVE MERCY” sanctifies the wicked and nonbelievers. Through a fighter’s spirit, P.Dot projects his voice from start to end. By the horns “LAWD HAVE MERCY” grabs discrimination and stomps on top with anger.

Coupled with a repetive chant and revved-up base, "THE SEPARATION" proves that P.Dot is only made for greatness. Embodying an unstoppable work grind in this one line "I don't get tired, really feel like I'm Kevin Gate-ing." he takes the bad with the good. After all, pressure makes diamonds and P.Dot claims whats rightfully his: Notoriety.

From the get-go, P.Dot is hesitant to trust. In one line, he even says "Let me battle my own demons, like you're battling yours." But "GLORY" comes with no means to offend. Instead, it sheds light on why P.Dot moves the way he does. Off the rip, P.Dot expected for close ones and business partners to keep it real. Unfortunately though, they tried biting off the hand that fed them. So P.Dot kept himself guarded all the while staying money-oriented. To attest this is one of many clever punchlines that are used mid-song. Here, he says "You been looking real fake, I spot a real snake/I'm getting green in this field with a real rake/A couple n-ggas got bread. I want a real plate/ So why beef & kill the cow to get a real steak?/I be "walking on water", they throwing pennies in it/I work too m'f hard to be penny pitching."

“BABY BABY BABY” steps in the name of love like its predecessor. As this particular song draws inspiration from Alicia Key’s song “You Don’t Know My Name,” it manages to find a unique rhythm. Specifically, the roles switch as P.Dot admires a woman whose “a sure thing." In response to Alicia’s presumptions about her crush knowing who she is, P.Dot plays a bit with her melodic refrain “baby, baby, baby.” With Key's message in mind, P.Dot thinks of his own lover. In retrospect, she’s been holding it down. And so, he insists that he’s not a boo or man. Because of all they’ve dealt with she's not only a lover but a friend. Besides this, a love-struck P.Dot boasts with glee about her many attributes. To him, everything about her is just so perfect. One line that deserves recognition in “BABY BABY BABY” goes like this: "Couple n*ggas takin' shots, but nothing Curry bout them." The song alone proves that loyalty lies with P.Dot indefinitely.

Drawing influence from his segment, #BARSFROMTHECAR — P.Dot adds more hard bars onto it in “SURVIVAL feat. Allezy.” Beat wise, this track uses an eerie piano progression and sneaker-knocking base. Lyrically however, P.Dot uses notable punchlines like "remain solid, never fold cause it’s easy to bend." To prove that “class is in session” and that others “ain't dealing with a substitute." Closing it out, Alleazy expresses himself through undeniably solid rhymes. In a word this song speaks on seeing the light in the darkest of times.

“WRONG SON (featuring. Pressure, KYY and Quis Chandla)” consist of some heavy hitters from New Jersey. Anonymously naming itself as a gangster anthem, the trio bring out the gully through intellectually crafted rhymes and hard cadences. Beat wise, “WRONG SON” uses a heavy base, some sirens, bells and a faint echo in its backdrop. To summarize, this track address the haters and fakes all while daring them to stop being social media thugs. Notable lines like “No burial for corpses/scheduled to burn./And on his tombstone, here lies another rapper whos a waste of sperm.” from Chandla go to prove that they have no time for B.S. On the whole, “WRONG SON” spooks those who doubt their excellence. No cap, they say “If I can shine alone, I can grind alone.”

With deep confliction and a heavy heart, “PERKS DNT NUMB” indicates that P.Dot will achieve his dreams with or without a team. Although actions speak louder than words, P.DOT wishes both would correlate. Preferably, he’d love others to keep it a 100. But for now, he’ll weed out all snakes from the Garden State. Likewise, P.Dot makes a point about the music industry and social media frenzied generation. For self recognition, both rappers play the numbers game and mock fake sincerity. Lines like "....but led in the metal for n*ggas tryna erase me," take a jab at the retort, “I'm rubber, you're glue; whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.” Overall, the song insinuates that P.Dot is good regardless. To take it home, “PERKS DNT DIE” adds a faint trumpet progression, hi-hats and snares in it’s soundscape.

Sometimes, people just don't know what they have until it's gone. Funnily enough, "TRIFFLIN (PURPLE HEART)" lives by that phrase. On opposing sides, the blame goes to a woman who just couldn't stick around for the long haul. Although he's angry, a logical P.Dot takes it to the booth. Thus, manifesting bars that come with the wrath. Referencing to the title, P.Dot says '(PURPLE HEART)' is an indication of a real one’s survival. Sonically, a dark piano progression foreshadows the pain he’s feeling. Likewise, the base comes with a mental socker-punch and takes P.Dot's not-so playful demeanor home.

In “CONCRETE ROSE ” P.Dot keeps a fighting spirit. Even though, he’s focused on the present — P.Dot can’t help but wonder if he’ll leave a legacy before the casket drops. Additionally, P.Dot opens up about his fear of dying young. Often, he references to his brother’s death but it’s only to show appreciation and face the man in the mirror staring back. With no return, P.Dot is “on a marathon until his time is done.” As mentioned in the song, he’ll run until his feet hurt and knee burst. On God, P.Dot prays to be felt before it’s time to go. Truly, he lives and dies by music. Sonically, the beat leans more towards somber instrumentations. As a whole “Concrete Rose” abides by the common phrase, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

Juxtaposed with an up-beat soundscape and remorseful lyrics, “EYE DON’T featuring D.Eeastwood and Fat Trap” speaks on the one that got away. Although he loved his woman immensely, P.Dot admits to not appreciating her enough. Revealing the story behind P.Dot and his loves split, “EYE DON’T” says, "I got a heart with brick walls & a seal around it/Gave you the finger when you tried to put a ring around it."

Second to last, “PROGRESSION feat. Chevy and Dibasi” starts off with a trumpet, hi-hats, a lo-fi synth, and dark piano riff. Besides providing a backdrop of earworthy auto-tune, P.Dot lets the listener hear his inner thoughts. Even though some people can be wishy-washy, P.Dot doesn’t let it phase him. Instead he beats the odds, by counting his blessings. Honestly he’s more focused on his progress than another’s occurrence. Like P.Dot, Dibasi and Chevy go in with nothing but real bars. Ultimately, they come with the same energy as the MC: inspired.

Last but not least, P.Dot finds himself on the ladder to success and he just can’t afford to miss a step. So, without breaking a leg, he treads precautiously with solid rhymes and reason in “MAKE A DOLLA.” Production wise, hi-hats bang in. Then, a dark piano riff arises to strike fear into his enemies. Still, "MAKE A DOLLA's” biggest distinguisher are the futuristic synths which go to prove that the days ahead consist of good fortune. To say the least, P.Dot refuses to be anything but fake. Out of his bag, he collects the coin and gets to work!

If you haven't already, stream THE SEPARATION now. It is available on Apple Music and Spotify.

LINKS:

1. Instagram - @pdotmmr

2. THE SEPARATION -