GameBr8ker Perspective on Motion

Yeah, my process is a mix of feel and structure. I don’t force anything. I might start with a melody, a drum pattern, or just a vibe I’m chasing — but once I catch a feeling, I lock in. I treat each track like a canvas and build layer by layer. I blend live energy with digital precision.

“Motion” actually started on a full Jersey club-type beat — fast-paced, real high energy, made by another producer. It was supposed to be a collab track. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized the song had something deeper in it. The vocals carried R&B emotion, some trap soul influence, and I felt like the original beat wasn’t doing it justice.

So I scrapped the beat completely. Dumped the original production and went back to the drawing board. I already had the vocals recorded, so this time, I built the entire production around the vocals — piece by piece. Every element had to match the vibe and elevate the feeling I was trying to give. I wanted it to move but still feel smooth, emotional, and connected. So I handcrafted every sound to lock in with that vision.

I can do both, but I lean toward working alone when I’m trying to create something personal. That space lets me explore deeper. But collaborations bring new energy — they push me into places I might not go on my own, and that’s when magic can happen.

I switch environments a lot. Sometimes I work in silence, sometimes I have a movie or documentary playing low in the background just to spark something different. I freestyle a lot too — just to let things flow naturally without overthinking.

And now, living in the Dominican Republic, I’ve been experimenting with the culture, the music, and the sounds out here. It’s been opening up a whole new world for me creatively. The rhythms, the energy, even the language — all of it’s starting to influence how I approach my music. I’m soaking it in and finding new ways to blend it into my sound.

Honestly, I enjoy all of it. The whole process — from start to finish — is creative, and each part plays its role. The order I go through those stages might change depending on the track, but I don’t really have a favorite. Whether it’s writing, producing, mixing, or releasing, I love each step because it’s all part of the art. Every phase gives me a different way to express myself.

It depends on the season, but on average, maybe 10 to 15. Some months I’m locked in heavy and knock out 30. Other times, I slow down and focus on quality and full song development.

FL Studio is my foundation, but I also use Logic Pro X a lot depending on the vibe. When it comes to sounds, Serum and Arcade are my go-tos. Serum gives me crazy sound design freedom, and Arcade is clutch for layering textures and grabbing quick ideas that spark something new.

Waves plugins — no question. They’re essential. From EQs to compressors to vocal effects, Waves gives you professional polish if you know how to use them right. And I definitely gotta shout out UAD — both their plugins and their interfaces. The quality is top-tier, especially for vocal processing and analog-style warmth. If you’re serious about your sound, investing in UAD can really level up your production game.

Don’t overcomplicate it. Keep it clean, leave space, and trust your ear. Sometimes the best thing you can do for a track is remove something. And always mix as you go — don’t wait ‘til the end.

Probably finding the perfect balance between bounce and smoothness. I didn’t want the drums to overpower the vibe, but I also didn’t want the energy to fall flat. It took some finessing, but once it hit, it hit.

808s and bass — hands down. Them joints just hit. They bring the heartbeat to a track. You can have all the melody in the world, but when that bass drops right, it changes the whole feel. It’s the soul of the song, the part you feel in your chest. That’s what brings everything to life for me.

Emotion, space, and clarity. The mix don’t need to be crowded — just focused. A great song doesn’t need a hundred sounds. It needs the right ones. And the emotion has to be real — people can feel that.

Man, I don’t even remember the track or the concept behind it, but I remember we used a bunch of burps in the beat. Real burps. I don’t know what we were on that day, but it was wild. Definitely the weirdest thing I’ve ever added to a song. It was some experimental moment — probably best left in the vault.

The fastest I ever did both beat and vocals was in about 35 to 45 minutes — start to finish. It was one of those moments where everything just hit. Like catching the holy ghost, but for music — the music ghost. That zone where you’re not even thinking, you’re just channeling.

It’s tough to prioritize one part of a song because to me, everything matters — down to the hi-hats. Every element has to work together. It’s all got to be symbiotic and cohesive. But if I had to choose something that I always want to stand out, it’s my vocals — especially my vocal approach. I don’t approach any two songs the same, so even my delivery might switch up track to track. That unpredictability is part of my signature.

On the beat side, I love blending worlds. Like sneaking an EDM texture next to a jazz chord, or layering something that makes a listener go, “Wait — that’s not supposed to go together… but it works.” I’m always looking for those moments that surprise you and still feel smooth.

Pharrell, Missy Elliott, or Timbaland. That’s like the Mount Rushmore of production for me — especially being from Virginia like them. They’ve always pushed the envelope with their sound and stayed ahead of the curve. Their creativity shaped how I hear music, and a collab with any of them would be legendary.

I actually started way back during the MySpace era — when artists could upload their music straight to their profiles. That’s when I first started seeing social media as a tool for music and not just connection. It was early, but it laid the foundation for everything that came after.

Instagram and TikTok have probably helped the most when it comes to reaching new ears. IG gives me that direct engagement with fans, and TikTok’s algorithm is crazy — you never know when one post might blow. It’s helped me tap into people who’d never find me otherwise.

They’ve completely changed the game. It’s not just about radio or labels anymore — one viral moment can make you global. Artists have more control now, but at the same time, the pressure to constantly create content can be draining. It’s a double-edged sword.

Instagram. That’s where I’ve built the most engagement and real connections. Stories, reels, and lives allow me to be versatile and show different sides of who I am.

It’s worked for me by giving me a platform to tell my story my way — no middleman. But it can also work against you when algorithms slow your reach or people only engage with surface-level stuff. It’s a grind, but it’s also powerful if you know how to move.

Probably Instagram too. It’s the most flexible — I can drop music, visuals, behind-the-scenes, and still be personal. It feels like home base. But I’m growing into TikTok more now for the discovery side of things.

I like sharing raw moments — behind-the-scenes in the studio, freestyle clips, or even short visual pieces tied to my songs. Content that’s creative but still real — where people get to feel the process, not just the polished product.

Motion. It’s got the right balance of vibe and substance. It’s smooth, seductive, catchy — but it’s also layered. If that joint blew up, it’d represent me well. It’s a real introduction to my sound.

I wouldn’t say it went viral, but my song Cold and Heartless definitely picked up some solid traction. It’s sitting just under 40,000 streams on Spotify right now, and while that might not be “viral,” it was a good moment. Seeing that kind of love as an independent artist — that’s a win. It showed me people were connecting with the record.

Yes and no. I love sharing what I’ve created, but the constant pressure to keep up with content trends can be exhausting. I’m more about quality than quantity, so I like posting when I feel it, not just when the algorithm wants me to.

I keep an eye on what’s moving — not to copy, but to understand how people consume music now. It’s necessary if you want to stay visible. But I filter it through my own lane. I stay aware without losing my originality.

I’m big on watching music production tips — I always like learning something new or seeing how other producers work. I also enjoy freestyle challenges and artists rapping over other beats — sometimes you catch real talent that way. And lately, I’ve been getting into those TikTok-style music videos with the wild visual effects. It’s inspiring to see how creative people are with minimal setups.

Man, I actually loved making music before social media took over. Back then, you had to be outside — pressing up CDs, pulling up on people, talking face-to-face, grinding in the streets. It made the connection real and personal. But at the same time, social media gives you reach you’d never have had back then. Both eras have their beauty — one gave you intimacy, the other gives you scale.

Freestyle challenges and rapping over other producers’ beats — that’s my lane. I love jumping on something with my own flavor and showing versatility. It’s a fun way to test your pen, catch a new audience, and show your skill set.

Scrolling IG reels or TikTok is like digging in a new-age crate. I’ve found dope artists and hidden gems just off random scrolls. Sometimes it’s the algorithm, sometimes it’s just timing — but social’s definitely become my digital digging space.

That’d be Fall Back by Lithe. I came across it before it really took off, and the vibe was crazy — dark, chill, but still had that street energy. It’s got this smooth but gritty feel that sticks with you. One of those records that catches you off guard in the best way.

Both. It helps by giving us platforms and control — but it can hurt when people feel they have to fake personas or chase trends just to stay visible. Authenticity’s still possible, but you’ve gotta fight for it.

I’d remove the algorithm pressure. Let creativity be the driver again, not just numbers. There’s too many talented artists getting drowned out just because their content doesn’t “perform” by algorithm standards. Real music deserves real visibility.

A lot of it comes from emotion — music is how I process life. It’s my therapy, my release. I also do it to honor my siblings who passed, two of whom loved music deeply. I feel like every song I write keeps their spirit alive. On top of that, I want to leave something behind that’s real — something people can feel, relate to, and grow with.

“Motion” was inspired by chemistry — that real, undeniable connection between two people. It’s sensual, but also about trust and letting go. The vibe was intimate, confident, and emotional — and I wanted to capture that in every layer of the track.

I wanted to make something smooth and seductive but still have bounce. Something that hits in the car, in the club, or late at night with someone special. I wanted it to be a vibe you feel in your chest — memorable but real.

Lil Wayne — no doubt. He’s the reason I picked up a pen. His creativity, wordplay, and ability to evolve without losing himself — that’s the blueprint.

My mom. She’s a published poet, and growing up watching her write showed me the power of words. She taught me how to express emotion with intention, and that still carries through in my music today.

My mom. She’s a published poet, and growing up watching her write showed me the power of words. She taught me how to express emotion with intention, and that still carries through in my music today.

Losing loved ones has heavily influenced my music. Songs like Cold and Heartless were born out of grief, betrayal, and trying to make sense of pain. Real-life experiences are the heartbeat of everything I create.

The Weeknd. His ability to create dark, cinematic soundscapes while still staying melodic and soulful inspires me. I like how he builds mood with sound — I try to do the same in my own way.

Lil Wayne. The way he bends words, flips meanings, and punches with metaphors — that’s what made me fall in love with lyricism. He’s witty, raw, and fearless with the pen.

Emotion, honesty, and structure. A great song connects — it doesn’t just sound good, it feels good. You need a hook that grabs, verses that speak truth, and production that supports the story. Every element should serve the bigger picture.

I write from personal experience — real-life stories, things I’ve been through or witnessed. You’ll hear my struggle, my mindset, my emotions, and the way I grew up. Everything is rooted in truth, even if it’s dressed up in melody. My music is personal, always.

Not repeating myself. I’ve been writing for years, so keeping it fresh and honest without falling into habits is the real challenge. Saying something new in a way that still feels like me — that’s the work.

100%. My music is the unfiltered version of me. Every verse, every melody — it’s either something I lived, felt, or wanted to say when I couldn’t in real life. What you hear is what I carry.

Not really superstitions, but I definitely have a vibe I like to get into. I’ll dim the lights, sometimes burn some incense or candles. And yeah — I might smoke a little weed to relax and let my thoughts open up. Once I’m in that headspace, I just zone out to the beat and let it flow.

It depends, but usually the music comes first. The beat sets the mood. Once I hear something that speaks to me, the lyrics follow. It’s like the sound pulls the words out.

Late at night or when I’m going through something heavy. Those quiet, reflective moments — that’s when the ideas hit the hardest. Pain, love, and solitude are major sparks.

Right now, probably Cold and Heartless. It’s honest, raw, and came from a real place. That track holds weight — people feel it. It’s not just a song, it’s a statement.

Wi-Fi. Dead serious. One day I just flipped the idea of being “connected” or “losing signal” into metaphors and built a whole track around it. Wild concept, but it worked.

I had just bought a new chain with a cold pendant, and the moment I looked at it, I felt inspired. I had the cash in my pocket, made the move, and turned the experience into a track. It’s actually one of my hottest songs out right now — recently dropped, and people feeling it heavy.

Lately, I’ve been writing a lot about personal pain — things I’ve kept locked away and never really spoken on. That emotional release hits different. I also talk a lot about my interactions with women — from relationships to casual vibes. That’s a daily part of my life, and it naturally shows up in the music. So between my pain and my experiences with women, those are the two lanes I gravitate to most.

When I’m stuck, I usually step away from the music and just live life for a second. I’ll go outside, watch a movie, talk to people, scroll through old notes, or even re-listen to some of my older unreleased stuff. Sometimes just revisiting a past version of myself sparks something. And being around women or even just vibing in a new environment — especially out here in the Dominican Republic — gives me fresh energy to pull from. Life always has a way of handing you new stories when you slow down and pay attention.

To build something timeless. I’m not in this just for hits — I want legacy. I want people to look back and say my music meant something, that it shifted culture, inspired minds, and helped people through real situations. I want my art to outlive me.

Yeah, I make music because I want the world to hear it. I want people to connect with it — to feel seen, heard, and understood. But more than anything, I do it in honor of my siblings. I lost three of them, and two of them were deeply passionate about music — they lived it, breathed it, loved it with their whole soul. So every track I create, every word I write, it’s not just for me — it’s for them too. I carry their energy in every verse. This journey is mine, but it’s also theirs.

Stay true to yourself — always. Trends fade, opinions change, but if your art is real, it’ll stand. I’ve learned that authenticity builds legacy, not just hype. It takes longer, but it lasts longer too.

Lil Wayne for the bars and evolution, The Weeknd for the mood and range, and Kanye for the creative risk-taking. They all shaped culture, not just playlists — and that’s what I aim to do.

Music is my first love — it’s how I express what I feel. But I also connect deeply with poetry, film, and visual design. I’ve always loved going to museums, getting lost in paintings and sculptures. There’s something powerful about visual art — it makes you stop and feel without saying a word. I’ve even thought about becoming an art collector one day, just surrounding myself with pieces that speak to my soul.

That’s tough, but I’d probably say The Rose That Grew from Concrete by Tupac. It’s not a painting or sculpture, but that poetry is art in its purest form. It captures struggle, growth, and resilience — themes I live by.

It means seeing beauty in the chaos. Turning pain into poetry, struggle into sound. An artistic outlook lets you look at the world with deeper eyes — nothing’s just what it seems, there’s always a story underneath.

Yeah, it can get lonely sometimes — especially when you’re locked in, grinding, and people don’t fully get what you’re chasing. I counter that by staying tapped in with people who really know me, staying grounded in my why, and letting the music speak when words don’t cut it.

I’ve always been into storytelling, visuals, and design. That bleeds into how I write and build songs. I don’t just make tracks — I try to create an entire world around them. The visuals, the brand, the message — it all connects back to the music.

I’ve done a little bit of everything — customer service, dispatching, logistics, and more. I’ve worked jobs that kept the lights on while I built the dream. All of that taught me discipline, patience, and hustle — skills I bring into the music game every day.

I’d change how gatekept and algorithm-driven it’s become. Real talent and originality get overlooked because everyone’s chasing what’s trending. I’d want to bring the focus back to raw creativity and artist development — not just numbers and quick clout.

Back before wireless mics were the norm, you had cords running all over the stage. I was doing my thing, moving around, hyping up the crowd — and I ended up getting tangled in the mic cable and straight up tripped on stage. Fell right in front of everybody. It was wild. I had to laugh it off and keep it pushing, but yeah… definitely one of those humbling moments.

Honestly, the scariest part isn’t the come-up — it’s actually making it. Because once you get there, the real questions hit: How do you stay made? How do you stay on top? How do you stay relevant without losing yourself? It’s easy when you’re creating freely, just grinding and putting it out for the world. But success comes with pressure, and the fear of falling off or losing that hunger — that’s what really keeps me up at night. That’s the part nobody really talks about.

I’d have to say Grindin’ by Clipse. That beat, that energy, that hunger — it speaks to everything I’ve lived and everything I’m chasing. It’s the perfect example of raw ambition turning into impact. Plus, they’re Virginia legends just like me, so it hits on a personal level too. That song is the sound of coming up from nothing and making it count.

Artists are the voice of emotion, culture, and truth. We document the times — not just the headlines, but the feelings behind them. We create the soundtracks to people’s lives, whether it’s to escape, reflect, or celebrate.

By never boxing myself in. I blend sounds that usually don’t mix, and I speak on things most artists shy away from. I’m building my own lane — experimenting with structure, visuals, and emotion in ways that feel fresh and honest.

Success to me is freedom — being able to create what I want, move how I want, and have people genuinely connect with it. It’s not just numbers, it’s impact. When people feel something real from what I made, that’s a win.

I had someone tell me one of my songs helped them through a really dark time. That hit different. To know something I created could help someone feel seen or even survive a situation — that’s the kind of impact I’m chasing.

Absolutely. In the beginning, I was just writing nonstop — freestyling, recording rough drafts, just trying to find my voice. Now it’s more intentional. I practice by recording often, experimenting with flows, and even producing my own sounds. I’ve grown from raw energy into refined artistry.

Through visuals and live performances. I love letting people see the emotion behind the sound. Whether it’s music videos, reels, or the stage — I make it an experience, not just a release.

Real. Versatile. Timeless.

I want people to feel like I never fake the vibe, that I can hit every sound and mood, and that my music sticks with you long after the beat fades.

I want them to feel understood — like I’m speaking to something they’ve been through or felt before. Whether it’s pain, passion, heartbreak, or ambition, I want the music to hit deep. And even if they can’t personally relate to my story, I still want to take them on a journey — give them an understanding of who I am, where I come from, and the meaning behind it all. It’s about connection, whether it’s shared experience or shared emotion.

In the bathroom scrolling through IG at like 2 AM. Sometimes the most random moments lead to the dopest finds — inspiration really don’t care about timing.

Definitely Lil Wayne, The Weeknd, and Drake — each one has influenced my sound in a major way. Wayne inspired my pen, The Weeknd brings that dark melodic edge I love, and Drake mastered the balance between rap and emotion. I also would’ve loved to work with XXXTentacion and Juice WRLD before they passed — both of them brought raw emotion and vulnerability to their music that really connected with people.

A packed arena or stadium, live instruments, heavy visuals, and the crowd moving with every beat. I want it to feel immersive — like stepping into a world I created, not just a concert.

Sade, Angie Stone, and Erykah Badu. That’s soul, substance, and timeless energy all in one. Their music speaks to the spirit — smooth, deep, and always real. I could let their catalogs play forever and never get tired of the emotion and truth they bring.

That’s a tough one, because there’s different eras of me — and each one had its own sound and purpose. I’ve got favorites from every phase of my journey, and honestly, I love everything I create. I put my all into every track, and I stand on it. But if I had to pick one that’s really standing out right now, “Motion” is definitely at the top. It captures where I am creatively and emotionally at this moment.

One artist I’ve always admired is Sade. Her music is timeless — smooth, soulful, and deeply emotional. Seeing her live would be an experience, not just a performance. The way she controls energy and creates atmosphere is something I really respect as an artist.

My music is like a big experiment — I’m always blending genres, flipping sounds, and pushing boundaries. It’s emotional, melodic, street, and sometimes unpredictable. You never know what you’re gonna get, but it’s always real and always me.

Lil Wayne’s music is raw genius. His wordplay, flow, and creativity are unmatched. Tha Carter II was the one that hit me the hardest — it had the perfect mix of bars, pain, and hunger. That album showed me how to put raw emotion into lyrics and still keep it clever. Wayne’s not just a rapper — he’s a storyteller, a wordsmith, and a blueprint for how to leave your mark.

If I could go on tour with anyone, it’d be Lil Wayne, Drake, The Weeknd, and Future. Each one of them shaped different parts of my sound. Wayne made me pick up the pen, Drake brought the emotion and versatility, The Weeknd brought that dark, melodic edge, and Future gave the streets a soundtrack. Touring with them would be legendary — different energies, but all iconic in their own lane. That would be a tour to remember.

I touch on love, lust, heartbreak, elevation — but also the streets. The struggle, the hustle, the code, the pain that comes with it, and the pride too. Whether I’m speaking on temptation, loyalty, or just tryna escape it all, my music always reflects where I came from and where I’m headed.

I’ve leveled up all around — lyrically, sonically, and creatively. My pen got sharper, my delivery more intentional. I’m constantly pushing myself to blend and fuse different sounds, always chasing something new and avant-garde. Whether it’s pulling from R&B, trap, jazz, or even rock, I’m building a sound that’s unique to me. I don’t follow trends — I experiment until I find a wave worth riding.

“Motion” blends R&B and trap-soul with a smooth, seductive vibe — but it also got a lil Jersey club bounce tucked in there too. It’s chill but still got movement, something you can vibe to or move to, depending on your mood.

It really clicked when I met my best friend, Chaya Jones in 6th grade . I was already writing — pouring my thoughts into notebooks — but he was the one who saw something in me and pushed me to put it to music. That moment changed everything. He lit the spark, and from there, I found my voice as an artist.

It really started at home, watching my mom write poetry. She’s a published poet, and seeing her express herself like that sparked something in me. That’s where the writing started. As for music, it was DC Go-Go blasting through the house — that was my mom’s vibe, and it became mine too. From there, I started branching out into other genres, and when I heard Tha Carter II by Lil Wayne, that’s when everything shifted. That album made me want to rap and take my writing to a whole new level. Then I started digging into jazz, rock, and anything else that moved me. That mix shaped the artist I am today.

“Motion” comes from experience — real late nights, real connections. I’ve lived the life I write about. Growing up around music, hustle, and emotion gave me the ability to capture that raw, intimate energy in a way that feels real, not forced.

I go by GameBr8ker. I’m a music artist, songwriter, and producer with over 20 years in the game. I create music that blends smooth melodies with real-life experiences — from love and lust to struggle and elevation. Everything I drop comes from a real place