#microphone controller

Your lyrics aren’t just lines — they’re intellectual property. That means your words, your melody, your originality… it all has legal value. If you don’t protect it, someone else can claim it — and get paid for your pain, passion, or punchlines.

So what is intellectual property (IP)? It’s any creation of the mind that can be owned. For lyricists, that means:

Lyrics

Hooks

Melodies

Concepts

Recordings

Even your artist name

When you create something original, you automatically hold copyright — but if it’s not registered, proving ownership in court becomes a nightmare. That’s why professional lyricists file copyrights, log sessions, and document who wrote what.

Collaborating? Get it in writing. Co-writing without contracts leads to confusion and lawsuits. Don’t let a handshake cost you publishing.

Also, remember: just because something isn’t stolen yet doesn’t mean it won’t be. Artists have lost whole catalogs because they didn’t understand their rights. Don’t be one of them.

It’s not about paranoia. It’s about ownership. You worked for those bars. You rewrote that verse ten times. You bled for that chorus. Protect it like it’s yours — because it is. Bars are valuable. Treat them like assets.

Telling your story is just about whether the point is reflective or thought-provoking. By that I mean are you trying to: talk about old feelings of a person who passed away, or a dramatic life changing event in your life that people can relate to or some topic you transform and present in a much different way than nobody has ever thought about provoking new conversations and thoughts…

Growth isn’t a glow-up — it’s a grind. Every great lyricist was once just a voice in the background, scribbling rhymes no one heard. What separates them or you from the rest? Relentless evolution.

Exponential growth means your skills don’t just add — they multiply. Each verse teaches you something. Every misstep shapes your next move. You’re not writing to stay the same — you’re writing to transform.

Start by studying yourself.

Revisit old verses. What patterns do you repeat?

Where did your flow fall short?

Which lines hit hardest — and why?

Growth requires intentional discomfort. Step outside your go-to themes. Write a love song if you only do war. Try a cappella if you always lean on beats. Flip your form — experiment with haikus, slam formats, spoken word. Keep stretching.

Also, learn from everyone — not just legends. The underground poet, the battle MC, the R&B hook queen, the indie rapper with one album and a cult following. Every artist carries lessons. Every sound is a seed.

Track your progress like an athlete: Do you have lyrical endurance?

How many verses this month?

How many topics explored?

How many new words introduced?

Treat lyricism like a discipline, not a hobby. That’s how your growth curve spikes. And when it spikes, so does your artistic gravity.

Because the goal isn’t just to get better — it’s to get undeniable better. Evolve until they can’t ignore you.

Being the best version of yourself is not the same as meeting some outdated standard. Own your truth and walk in it appropriately…. if you haven’t met somebody to do the things you think need to be done you should do them yourself. I got my Bachelor’s in Business Administration and my Master’s in Business Administration with the intention of making a company where I could help other’s achieve what I had not been able to attain previously. Artists would have a place to digitally publish music, poetry and e-books connected to an artist created company. None of the disloyal, disrespectful, “money first” driven behaviors I had too often experienced as an artist. At Mental Images Never Die LLC. if you are serious about where you want to go with your dream, then this would be the place for you on my link….https://www.mindllc.org

The stage isn’t just a place. The mic isn’t just a prop. Your notebook, your voice, your story — that’s your territory. As a lyricist, you don’t just write words… you claim space.

Owning your space starts with confidence in your voice. Not just how you sound — but what you say. What do you believe in? What won’t you compromise on? That conviction becomes your lyrical foundation. Without it, you’re just another echo. With it, you’re a force to be reckoned with.

Owning your space also means knowing your value. You don’t have to shout over everyone to be heard — you just have to say something real, and say it like you mean it. Quiet bars hit just as hard when they’re loaded with presence.

Make room for your style. Whether your delivery is smooth and introspective or chaotic and raw, that’s your signature. Don’t dilute it for trends. Trends fade. But your space? That’s eternal if you build it right.

This also applies to the business side. Your art is your intellectual real estate. Protect it. Register it. Don’t give it away just to be seen — get credit, get paid, get respected.

And when it’s time to perform? Don’t shrink. Don’t apologize. Don’t wait for permission. You step up and take what’s yours — bar by bar, breath by breath.

Because if you don’t own your space, someone else will. Write like you belong. Rap like you’re home.

Truth be told, when I started out, I thought that just throwing lines together was good enough. However, a lot of other people had the same idea that I did. But even as a little kid, I wanted to funnel creativity into my lyrics. That led me to my first area of new ideas and pushing my own boundaries about what lyrics were. The first place that really caught my attention was the library, which was primarily a place to read about things I hadn’t seen before and might never see. Now you might be thinking that this is a crazy way to engage in lyrical growth however, it has options many other places do not

Perspective is your lyrical superpower. It shapes what you say, how you say it, and why it matters. The same event can sound like triumph or tragedy depending on the angle. As a lyricist, your job isn’t just to tell the story — it’s to choose the lens.

First person? That’s raw and intimate. Third person? That’s reflective and observant. Second person? That pulls your listener into the scene like it’s happening to them.

Play with these shifts. Take a heartbreak and write it from your view… then from theirs. Write about your city from a bird’s eye, then from the alleyway. Each version reveals a different truth.

Great writers don’t just write from inside themselves — they step out. They write from the future, the past, the crowd, the mirror. They zoom in and out until emotion becomes universal.

Perspective also keeps your ego in check. Not every song needs to be “I.” Sometimes “we” matters more. Sometimes silence speaks louder than a rant.

Ask yourself:

What emotion am I trying to communicate?

Whose voice is this really?

Would this line still hit if someone else said it?

When you shift your viewpoint, you shift your power. You write with empathy. You write with dimension. You make space for nuance, not just punchlines.

Because the most powerful lyrics don’t just reflect your world — they reveal how others live in it too. Change the angle. Change the impact.

I use to have a physical copy of webster’s dictionary to look up new words and to review the definition of words I used ordinarily to make sure I was using them correctly. Having a higher than basic knowledge of words is a next area that is really important. Today it’s a simple download away on your phone, but the payoff will be tremendous. By payoff I mean investing some time once a week to learn 3 to 5 new words out of whatever version of the dictionary you feel most comfortale using. I can easily remember having the issue of not knowing what words meant and nobody else knew what the words meant either.

The dictionary isn’t just for definitions — it’s a goldmine for lyricists. Every word you know expands your range. The broader your vocabulary, the deeper your expression. You’re not just writing bars — you’re crafting meaning.

Think of language like paint. If you only know ten colors, your canvas stays basic. But with a thousand shades? You create worlds.

Crack open a dictionary (yes, even the app counts). Choose a random word. Explore:

Definition – Know what it really means.

Origin – Greek, Latin, street, or slang?

Synonyms – Find the mood, the tone, the flavor.

Rhymes – Does it flip easy into a bar?

This isn’t about sounding complicated. It’s about precision. There’s a difference between “sad,” “hollow,” “melancholy,” and “devastated.” Use the one that hits the feeling. Want to level up faster? Build your own personal lexicon — words you love, phrases you use, ones that feel like you. Revisit them. Remix them. Reintroduce them in new ways. And don’t forget the slang dictionary. Regional dialects, generational codes, cultural phrases — that’s living language. That’s flavor no textbook can teach.

If you want to rhyme like a pro, you’ve got to read like one. Dictionaries, thesauruses, rhyme databases — those are instruments in your toolkit. Don’t just freestyle… free-educate. Because when your vocabulary grows, so does your versatility. Big words don’t make a big artist — but the right word, at the right time, makes a timeless lyric.

 I have been an artist, an m.c., a poet, a songwriter and a writer for 45 years of my life since the age of eight. Today’s very important topic is related to where we use technology for everything in communication. When you communicate about different issues, viewpoints or display ideas it is key to articulate the idea or concept. I'll take for example the idea that working somewhere people always convey information to you face to face, on the phone or through social media apps.

Every lyricist is a wordsmith — not just a rhymer, but a craftsman of expression. The beat might move the body, but the words move the soul. Unlocking the wordsmith in you means learning to manipulate language with intention, elegance, and edge.

Start by treating words like tools. A hammer can build or break. A metaphor can heal or sting. Master the mechanics: Using these areas below will help you on your pathway.

Alliteration sharpens rhythm.

Internal rhyme adds music between the bars.

Double entendres open doors to layered meaning.

Imagery paints emotion in high definition.

Be playful. Be surgical. Stretch the language until it sings.

Study the greats — not just hip-hop icons, but poets, playwrights, storytellers. Shakespeare, Maya Angelou, Nas, André 3000, Nina Simone. Notice how they say more with less, how they leave space for interpretation, how a simple phrase can feel eternal when placed just right.

Don’t just write what rhymes — write what reveals. Challenge yourself to say “I miss you” without using the words. Say “I’m angry” through metaphor, through storm, through silence.

Great wordsmiths know the difference between saying something, and saying it in a way that sticks.

This is where technical skill meets emotion. Where punchlines meet poetry. When you unlock the wordsmith, you stop writing at people and start speaking into them. The pen is your sword. Sharpen it.

   In a world where everyone’s chasing trends, authenticity is rebellion. Being a lyricist isn’t about saying what’s popular — it’s about saying what’s true. You are your subject, your source, your muse. If you can’t be honest on the page, step back until you can.

 I did quite a bit of research and came back to a name that had been in the front of my brain ……..Enfantu Raa. Yes….it was powerful, different, even had the reference to Raa the sun god. Little g not big G. This name is one that I had in my mind and used for characters I would create as a kid. In my attempt to find a name that fit me, that I could identify with that was different than what I commonly heard…..it became apparent to me that I was overlooking the one name that had been with me since I was a kid.

Your story might not be polished, your past might not be pretty — but it’s yours. Own it, write it, whether you’re heartbroken, angry, enlightened, or confused, pour that into the verse. Your realness resonates. It cuts through the noise that is so loud on the internet and everywhere else today.

Don't edit your truth for acceptance. If you're from the suburbs but feel the streets in your bones, say that. If you’re deeply spiritual, say that. If you’re insecure, anxious, joyful, wild, grieving — say that. Vulnerability is not weakness — it’s your power in the world of wordsmiths.

Mimicking another artist’s flow or aesthetic might get you applause for a moment, but it won’t build legacy. Your legacy is in your lens and you have to flush it out. What do you see that no one else sees? What do you feel that others can’t articulate? Put that in the rhyme.

Being authentic also means letting your identity evolve. As you grow, your lyrics should too. What was real for you at 18 might not be at 28 — and that’s okay. Document that shift and growth is part of the story. At 53 I am not talking about what I did at 18, I’m in a different space of my life. In the end, your voice is your power. Don’t water it down or dress it up. Say what only you can say — or don’t say anything at all. Real bars hit harder. Always.