[Verse 1]
To whom it may concern–Enchanté, dude’s name is Sur
Contact you mainly to earn a stable place to make my work
An underground artist so I can relate to worms
And I have what it takes to skate at your distinctive firm
‘Cuz I’m the M. Bison of pen writing, a slim Titan
Who’s been licensed to enlighten
Especially these darker kids to with skin whitened
Who wanna drink this brew since I’m bottling lightning
(uh) My experience comes in a myriad of periods
I share it to assure you fucks who jeer I’m serious
So if you’re peering in circa when I was a weird and eerie kid
Who had pimples when staring in the mirror, shit
My theory is to struggle is the way to really live
I keep grinding until my shares spike like Guy Fieri’s wig
The precedence is great music and the exception is free
I’ll follow up with whatever reference you need
Respectfully, ME

[Hook] (x2)
My résumé’s on the interwebs
And so is my cover letter
They both been there for a little bit
So therefore I ain’t bitter yet

[Verse 2]
Yo my name is Sur5ILL and I’m from Massachusetts
On the highest axis, stupid
I-95 passes through it
Contact information should you choose to use it
Is my namesake at Gmail–but don’t forget to include in “music”
Find me on LinkedIn, in a .jpeg drinking
Out a grey keg slinking at my apex, winking
(Yeahhh) My sole goal in unloading Golerflame
Was to promote The LE Project, Cisic, and to flow with Reigns
More a fan of Costanza than I ever was of Chandler
Bing, Google, Foodler or Youtube your man, Sur
Modern warfare online and I’m murdering campers
My shit’s not hood it’s more for nerds learning at Stanford
I used to chill with Pablo, Brian, Ryan and Ken
And Lucas, their instruments aligned and invited me in
I didn’t own one yet so I bought a Squier at whim
I never played a note, I dunno where I’d try to begin (yeah)


[Verse 3]
(OK) Like I mentioned in #braingoes, my primary language is of the Anglos
But I know Spanish too, and in lieu of that
The fact of the matter’s I’m en fuego
That’s how I’m described where I reside in my pueblo
I may sound blanco, police finding me negro
You peons agree on my aura: it’s neon day glow
In two thousand one and two as a poor slouch
I attended Morehouse
Was more-South than I was used to
From what I could deduce through a dude’s view
I thought Spelman would be a whorehouse
So I could spoon then get the fork out
The extent of my learning ends at UMass
Whereas I earned my stripes like Zubaz
But I wasn’t a full grad
Not that it matters much but I majored in English
I wrestled with this decision like it came with a singlet
My minor’s culinary art and rappers are my fave dish
With a plate appearance like swing, miss–Sur, the king bitch

Take care,



About Sur5ILL

rap·per [noun]: 1. muse. 2. offender of conservatives. 3. word engineer. 4. beige linguist. 5. caps lock avoider. email: sur5illmusic@gmail.com