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no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us
dispite what you say to your management i am not one of your challenges they'd make you think i ain't exist like imma myth like i'm a stock image gif i'm not convinced
is that is your beat cut and saw couture designed is that your mans
what about mmmm what about hmmm yall still mesh
you still remember me what is his digiting you still advanced?
did you read all his socials you hear all his codewords you still feel like that?
they shot at our school bus now i take red eyes to munich
they only lost a tire all the neighbors out robert taylor just refeueled up
no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us
jinx the natural:
bow bow bow
break it down on the counter break more down on the counter go and grab me a soda
bring back purple and pink with syrup drink drinking but i never throw it up my niggas they ganging they throw it up
couple of flats no-one living with us couple of flats no-one living with us
drug addicts
all drug addicts
damn man
we cant get enough
my niggas down they can't get enough
im about to get fucked up
stay alert
go out in the front?
no no no
stay alert
no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us
bow bow bow
no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us no one wrote this out for us

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Spoleto, 2024.

vyle. moves through the cavernous mouth of an old garage, the scent of damp concrete and rust curling into the air, the faint hum of the city center somewhere beyond its darkened corridor.He's here on a break—between art showings, between guerilla VR exhibitions secretly embedded into institutions too slow to notice their own interventions. But as his footfalls echo against the walls, something shifts.

The architecture—it triggers something. The way the angles meet, the way the walls press inward like memory itself is folding. Chicago.Regents Park.

The garage of his childhood.

And suddenly, he's not here anymore.

He's back inside his origins, his lineage, his mother.Norma.

The ghost of her presence in every creative risk he took, in every work that forced the city—and the world—to take notice. And the ripple effect—people adopting his aesthetic, bending it, flipping it into their own, the patterns familiar yet distant.

He thinks about the clothing style that his friends The Cool Kids popularized, the one he had already been wearing before they even met—proof that culture doesn't just emerge, it converges, aligns itself in ways unseen. He thinks about the importance of his own existence, how being born Black on the South Side of Chicago in the mid-'80s and growing up through the '90s and '00s was a cultural act in itself.

Chicago's contributions etched into the modern era—

The Bulls Dynasty. The greatest to ever do it, showing the world how Chicago moved.

His music scene. The undercurrents that would later reshape global sound.

Obama. Proof that even the highest seats of power weren't out of reach.

And then—inevitably—commodification.

His own culture flipped into a product, his city's slang now repackaged and sold as "Gen Z slang." The rhythms of his city absorbed into algorithms. House music, a Chicago-born sound, now inspiring Beyoncé's latest wave.

The truth settles deep in his chest—his path wasn't written by any human.

There was no blueprint. No guidebook. No One Wrote This Out For Us. NOWTOFU.

A phrase. A song. A manifesto.

Because these weren't just his thoughts—they were the thoughts of his Chicago counterparts, the ones who grew up inside the same cultural storm. The ones who watched their origins refracted into the world in ways they never agreed to, the ones who still whispered these conversations in the late hours, turning stories into doctrine.

And in this narrative, Jinx The Natural emerges. Capturing it all, the living conditions, the realities of multiple bodies inside a single home fueled by the sale and consumption of ingestibles—because that wasn't an anomaly in Chicago.That was just life.

The past, the present, the future—it all crashes in at once.

Spoleto fades. Chicago lingers.

vyle. exhales, the weight of it all settling as he steps forward, leaving the garage behind.