It wasn’t supposed to be a love moment. Not at first. It started like any other night—just me, my speaker, and a beat I know too well. Big Thug Boys by AV was already vibing in my chest before the first word left my lips. I’ve ridden that beat plenty of times, but that night, it was different. That night, I wasn’t freestyling just for the streets, or for the shadows of my own ambition. I was freestyling… for her.
She was sitting there, quiet, calm, with that look she gives when she knows something is about to hit. And maybe she didn’t know the words I was about to say—but I think she felt them before I even spoke.
The beat dropped, and I rode it. Smooth, confident, like it was a wave I was born to surf. But instead of rapping about the usual—about pain, hustle, or proving myself to the world—I let love speak. And that’s when everything came out right from my heart deeply.
“It's a sound of a victory when I'm with you i just wanna stay cool with it, I don't wanna divide this love we have” I rhymed. “ Baby can you give me mile let's take it on a race, you know how you do it nice i'ma figure it out.”
Her lips curled into the kind of smile that makes time pause. She didn’t interrupt. She didn’t need to. She just listened—and that gave me power. That gave the freestyle wings.
The words came from somewhere deep. Not rehearsed, not even fully formed in my head before they left my mouth. It was like my heart was doing the talking, and the beat was just the pulse behind it.
That’s the thing—Big Thug Boys gave me a rhythm, but she gave me the reason. The beat is strong, masculine, rough around the edges. But my freestyle carved out a space for softness in it. A space for love.
“You don't need to worry about what this (niggas) people are talking about you” I said. "cos i wanna be the one at you"
By then, I wasn’t freestyling at her—I was freestyling with her energy. Her presence shaped the rhythm. She didn’t say a word, but she was in every line. The way she blinked. The way she leaned in. The way she held her breath during the pauses, like the next word might hold a piece of her own heart too.
"Keep it all full whenever you need me, call you everyday like I'm so busy no way baby I got ya really"
The song was still looping. AV’s beat steady in the background, giving me something strong to build my honesty on. I told her everything—without telling her everything. You know how that is? When the lines mean more than the words? That’s what this was.
She nodded. Slowly. Like she understood. Like maybe she’d been waiting to hear this—not just from me, but from anyone willing to be this bare.
It wasn’t just about her, though. It was about me, too. About discovering that love doesn’t make you weaker—it sharpens your edge, gives your voice purpose. I wasn’t just rhyming to impress anymore. I was rhyming to connect. To be seen. To let her know that even if the world saw me as “big thug boy,” she saw the man beneath it.
And for once, I let her.
“That's the way I'm on for you drop all to the city that's all for you I don't want anyone to go down with you it is me and you in this world let's hold it through"
Silence after a freestyle like that hits different. It wasn’t awkward—it was sacred. I looked at her, and she looked at me, and we both knew something had shifted.
That night, I freestyled my truth. I let love flow through a beat made for the bold, and turned it into a confession.
Because sometimes love isn’t roses and soft songs. Sometimes, love is bass-heavy, lyric-laced, and spoken in real time.
That’s what freestyling Big Thug Boys became for me.
A moment where a hard beat met a soft heart.
And love flowed—line by line.
I had to share this with you all to feel the love and passion of my talent, one love to everyone 🚀❤️