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 š¤ÆšÆ
This year felt different not just because of what Iāve been through, but because of how I chose to speak about it and live about it tooš. Music has always been my outlet, my therapy, my truth. And when I heard āThis Yearā 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 wasnāt 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 donāt just rap I release. I pour every scar, every dream, every prayer into the rhythm. And this freestyle? It was personal. It wasnāt about showing off skills or chasing clout. It was about testifying. This year, Iāve 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, āThis year, my story gonna change.ā
Freestyling over that beat felt like speaking into my future. I wasnāt just rhyming; I was prophesying. I talked about the silent battles Iāve won. The goals Iāve ticked off quietly while nobody was watching. I spoke about how people overlooked me, but God never did. How Iām 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.
Gunnaās 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 whoās tired of āalmost making it.ā The one who said, āThis year, I must make it.ā
My freestyle was layered. There were moments I got poetic, vulnerable, even prophetic. I said things Iāve never said out loud. Like how Iāve carried pain in silence. How Iāve seen friends switch up. How Iāve learned to clap for myself when nobody else does. I addressed every no Iāve received from gatekeepers, from lovers, from life. But I also celebrated the yes Iāve finally started to say to myself.
What made this freestyle powerful wasnāt just the bars it was the feeling. I wasnāt rapping to impress. I was rapping to survive. To speak life into myself. To remind the world that Iām here, and Iām chosen. That even though Iāve been slept on, Iām wide awake now. That even if the industry donāt open doors for me, Iāll build my own house. This year aināt about luck itās 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 wasnāt begging for validation. I was claiming my manifestation. Iām not who I was last year. Iām not where I used to be. And Iām definitely not finished.
So yeah, I freestyled over āThis Yearā and it wasnāt just a song anymore. It became my story, my sound, my stamp. Iām not rapping just to be heard. Iām rapping to be felt. And if you listen close, youāll hear it too: the hunger, the healing, the hope. This year is mine. And Iām freestyling my way through it one truth at a time.
It's all love from my side every time šā¤ļø
