Matty C

BIO:
Picture a kid spittin flawless Biggie into a crowd at 19 with pipe-dreams, praying ya'll are listening. Steady rippin with a raw precision from start to finish, heart is in it, none of my scars are hidden. Starved and wishin for glory but I'm far from quittin, collecting fat tracks faster than cars are driven on the Autobahn, phenomenal bars are written, I saw a vision much brighter than two stars collision: this art's ignition, sending me to Mars with missions. It marks positions to guide me if the sparks diminish. Lawless livin has left me with a hardened image, I'm dark and timid but always set to spar with victims. It's not a gimmick, I leave MCs so jaws are twitching, so stop pretending, your shit is not convincing. This shark is swimming, tracking ways the charts are risen, aiming for the top even when the target's missing. My jargon's hittin, the meaning of a martyr's shifting: I'd give my life up for the mic so I could guard the rhythm. Stressin from the cost of living and competition within this cold world but I brought my mittens. Life can be a bitch like the harshest women and frustrating like a parking ticket, but I drop terrific. Ya'll little puppies how you bark at kittens; this is more than just some harmless mischief, I bring the hardest friction. Energy like carbon fission with Harvard diction that escapes from bars in prisons in my mind, push my rhymes to their farthest limits, with a sample of em your attention starts to pivot. Art is drippin, imperfections are sparse within it. I love music, this isn't narcissism.