Hello beautiful people, welcome to the afritune week 172. I am favouragina and I'm here to display my creativity for you all. First time in it and I'm gonna blow your mind away 🤯💯
This year felt different not just because of what I’ve been through, but because of how I chose to speak about it and live about it too😁. Music has always been my outlet, my therapy, my truth. And when I heard “This Year” by Victor Thompson, Gunna, and Ehis D Greatest, something in my soul clicked. The melodies, the message, the emotion it all hit me deep I'm not gonna lie everything make sense. That beat wasn’t just background afro gospel. It was a reflection of my mindset, my hustle, and my hope. So I had to freestyle over it. I had to let the world hear my voice layered on top of that anthem of belief and breakthrough.
When I step to make the video happen I got to run it up big time no caps with that, I don’t just rap I release. I pour every scar, every dream, every prayer into the rhythm. And this freestyle? It was personal. It wasn’t about showing off skills or chasing clout. It was about testifying. This year, I’ve been through fire and favor. Sleepless nights filled with doubts. Days where everything seemed heavy. Moments where I felt invisible. But I never folded. I kept writing. I kept believing. I kept saying, “This year, my story gonna change.”
Freestyling over that beat felt like speaking into my future. I wasn’t just rhyming; I was prophesying. I talked about the silent battles I’ve won. The goals I’ve ticked off quietly while nobody was watching. I spoke about how people overlooked me, but God never did. How I’m walking with purpose now chest out, head high, voice loud. Every bar I spit came from my chest, my belly, my spirit because all about me is God's made.
Gunna’s part brought that street grind flavor. Victor brought the gospel. Ehis laced it with that African heartbeat. And me? I brought my truth. I weaved my roots, my reality, and my rise into every line. I spoke to the dreamer in me the one who remembers writing bars in the dark when there was no power, no data, no food, just faith. The one who’s tired of “almost making it.” The one who said, “This year, I must make it.”
My freestyle was layered. There were moments I got poetic, vulnerable, even prophetic. I said things I’ve never said out loud. Like how I’ve carried pain in silence. How I’ve seen friends switch up. How I’ve learned to clap for myself when nobody else does. I addressed every no I’ve received from gatekeepers, from lovers, from life. But I also celebrated the yes I’ve finally started to say to myself.
What made this freestyle powerful wasn’t just the bars it was the feeling. I wasn’t rapping to impress. I was rapping to survive. To speak life into myself. To remind the world that I’m here, and I’m chosen. That even though I’ve been slept on, I’m wide awake now. That even if the industry don’t open doors for me, I’ll build my own house. This year ain’t about luck it’s about alignment, assignment, and action.
As the beat faded and my last bar echoed, I felt something lift off me. Like I had released a declaration into the atmosphere. I wasn’t begging for validation. I was claiming my manifestation. I’m not who I was last year. I’m not where I used to be. And I’m definitely not finished.
So yeah, I freestyled over “This Year” and it wasn’t just a song anymore. It became my story, my sound, my stamp. I’m not rapping just to be heard. I’m rapping to be felt. And if you listen close, you’ll hear it too: the hunger, the healing, the hope. This year is mine. And I’m freestyling my way through it one truth at a time.
It's all love from my side every time 🚀❤️