Bottom Dollar

by sign one



sign one is a producer and rapper from Orlando Fl.  In the early 2000's sign and his crew, "jerk circuit" helped pioneer the "nerd rap" style and sound of hiphop and went on to create beats for many emcees since.

The newest album, titled "bottom dollar" was written between the years of 2012-2015 and recorded in the true signone minimalist fashion, utilizing samples from vinyl to create the beats and vintage equipment to record.  Known for his unique performance style and live playing on drum machines, sign continues to rock mic's and bang on pads in the ozone. 


released September 13, 2016

Written & performed by sign one
Orlando, FL, USA
Beats by sign one
Horns by Theclarinethobo
Guitars by Brad Kriebel
Scratches by Spytek
Tweech!zown appears on MDR PRFCT


all rights reserved



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Independent hip hop and experimental label since 2001.

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Track Name: Grown Raps
ladies and gentlemen, you are now rocking with the veteran
Tell your friends, tie your shoe, take your medicine
Let's all listen to the poets that's relevant
My name is sign I'm in the place with this mic
And if the taste isn't right then I'll replace it with hype
We sick and tired of these so-called rappers
Fittin to cold call crackers and grow bald backwards..
And bring it back come rewind.. We like to rip mics
Do it all the time, this is our time. Like they said :
"This is our show"-conshus
got somewhere's to be? You got no where else to go?
Shouts to the west coast. Shots to the moon
Been fuckin with the best folks it gotsa b soon so
Throw your hands in the air! Hey! (Ho!)
make some mfkn noise Let's get that shit out the way,
cause I don't play that. Been rhymin since way back,
even did back ups on the big payback7 inch vinyl
(I wrote lyrics on the back of the record sleeve)
Na I'm lyin I'm not Lionel I just still dig the wax it just feels to be primal
I'm at the dollar box. Bargain or not.
I see the homeless cots Give that man all that I got $
That's why I stays broke but you can bet I stays fed,
Big Chef on the mic, wack emcees: stay in bed.
They said I'm gettin older. I said "don't matter, they boring"
Cause I'm from back when cartoons was only Saturday morning
Now we all strung out on instant gratification,
"how ya want it I got it"-mikeg Unless you're asking for patience.
Jerk Circuit. Shouts to the hooligans
We rockin baggy pants they boutsta b cool again
Cause what goes around comes back around we figure
(And)"now we got white kids callin themselves niggas" no
The mic rock tho, the main ingredient
That goes for standup poets and slam comedians
And deejays who prerecord sets to be broadcasted later
When they pretend to take requests
And this goes out to real rappers rap with finesse
The crowd is waitin for queues I don't feel moved. Or blessed
Graf writers/b-girls only ones left who ain't been
completely bought out by Big Businesses (YET)
Save a couple of paydays....
I'm Saving my cliches so maybe someday I can say
"Peace to the God".
On his birthday.
Track Name: Blisters
This pitch is none of your business
Nor is what's inbetween
And I bet you wish it was Xmas
Every day is Halloween
The grind is much like the hustle
And the game'll go straight to your dome
And "part of me rich man, pardon me homeless.
Offerings unto his own."-me
it makes no sense to think in terms
of lost or forgotten men
On a carton of milk with a handful of heads
The bosses rotten pen
Who just can't write no more
But with the healing powers of Christ
I'm back with a flash of light
A pocket of poems
And a mouthful of ice
I bet you wish this was rap music
I don't even know what that is
But I do know "it takes a nation of millions.."
And "nobody beats the biz"
This ain't your average axiom asshole
Eat it consider it true
It goes one for the money
Two for the credit
And three.
And the rest is for you
Cause the radio said hip hop is dead
And the kids all listen to country
I said "fine by me" it's fine time we
Move on. Now how bout some lunch meat
I need a wardrobe like Prince
And a grill like Steve yzerman
I'd be the baddest rapper from SF
To Bedford Stuyvesant
You can search the world for the perfect girl
Or the job you think is worth working
But you never get blessed with a light like mine
Or a crew as dope as jerk circuit
And your dogs commence to dissipate
Hip hop ages gracefully
By the time I finish my debut album
The nursing home better have space for me
Some days I just can't Fck with
About lost my mind the other night
Every morning I wake from a 10 year coma like:
Track Name: The Process
We makin records piecing together snippets of tape
We take forever at peace with the weather bitches and breaks
We hatin? Never. It's peaches and pleather. This handshake
Who wants to drive next? (This is on some hip hop shit)

I grabbed the mic first time when I was maybe 15
Around the same time I learned to keep the kitchen clean
We never switched teams, just kept it peace, awake.
All types of listeners complete each piece of the break.
I'm mad grateful. Ask me for what?
Don't pass me for last gatsby, I'm nasty as fuck
Or maybe just too polite to use such poor grammar
Confused your new yorkin with Grand Rapids stammer
(Ima battle ya)
I'm just LOLin trolls go back under your bridges
We got new generations of kids to live with
Go take your kids to the record shop
Go start up a milk delivery pop up
I don't give a fuck
Just see these rappers every time they visit
That's called support sport (s/o Filkoe)
"Get in where you fit in" to quote too short
"There's money in the ghetto" again IDK
Cause man I ain't from Oakland. I keep forgettin
Big up the heads that's holding down the winters in the mitten
Not me sun, they say "we sun people"
We call ourselves Suns and our state of mind: peaceful
Ain't got nothing else to do, but pass
I'm more or less older than I feel I should be, right at this moment
Me and my crew used to pedal this honest music and suffered elite
Until the Internet chased me down
I got friends I wish I could see right now, but I can't remember their names
While hiding my phone from myself, in the process I lost my pen
(Writing this in notes now)
Got pen pals now, on skype and said "read my fax"
Everyone of us a documentarian, I can't help but support that
And not give a shit who owns this.
"You want your money, come and get it"-sole
While becoming part of the process, processing raps most prophetic.
These mix tapes used to be shrinkwrapped.
But that was just part of the "...process, like Ice-T's hair
Said mr coke to mr mayor"-boots
And you could tell where I come from
we gettin older we ain't gettin dumb sun
Or young sun.. And got nothin left to run from my name is sign one
This is truth. This is a youth movement
We don't talk about art. We talk survival and write you music
Track Name: Come Fly with Me
Ok party people
Let's get down to business
I'll try to keep your attention
Excuse my persistence
But this is, an example
Of good folks done gone bad
Like me here on this mic
I think I brought the wrong hat
How I'd rather be bangin on drums
Than dragging my thumbs
With Neanderthals on mopeds
Got my flags and my guns
In a standoff with God sun
At the top of the mountain
Where I'm like "gimme my dreams back
That I dropped in the fountain." -goonies
yo here we go again folks
Ima state my case
You don't like the way it looks up here?
You should break my face
Or we can stand in silence
Or we can vote me off the island
Or maybe we would get more mileage
Outta resorting to violence
Yeah here it is party people
In the place to be
You done paid to see me rap>
I get disgraced for free
So if you see me lookin sappy homie
After the show, you better
Buy my crew a round of drinks
Or ask me to go
But if I leave I'm headed to the rooftops
I'm done with the couch life
I live it for the finer things
The gun in my mouth
Tighten ya nooses if ya know what talkin about
Come fly with me
(I am not your equal.. Meaning your equivalent)

Sign ones a nasty bag of human shit to a beat
When the time comes to gas me? Dag.. Will you forget to retreat?
And cop your poison of choice, you better make it super-sized
Fuck it. Gimme a lethal dosage doc, I need to be euthanized.
Mind numb, blind from why the real live die young
Always happens on holidays, and if it's not: it becomes one
To be marked on calendars and then forgotten with guilt
That's why I'm laughing in the face of God, and rapping on stilts.
Come fly with me

All these life like impulses keep on forging our signatures
and I'm not sure if we're not dying just to be watching our figures
And everybody wants to be all depressed, try it.
In my opinion being broke is still the best diet
I never stopped talking to God, but not forsaken his patience
That's how I know I'm not a coward, but I'll never make it to face him
But you can write the final chapter right after you learn to fly
Man will never fear the laughter, and never conquer the sky
So while they paint your portrait and hang it on the wall at the bar
They'll know you did it to be free, that's why they made you A star
Send me a sign about the state of things here after I'm gone
But don't consider me a martyr, for how I'm ending the songs
Come fly with me
Track Name: Checks
Beats and rhymes
Sign one speaks his mind
Grabs the mic, and freezes time
Oh y'all taping? Please rewind
I got beats yo I'm stacking like a crip
But emcees is actin like a bitch
My deejays a (No)show off.
Cuts cold I froze ya clothes off
It's getting hot this year
I try to rhyme the same
Hope we don't get blamed for climate change
Either way the end is neigh
It's a good thing my friends is fly
Cold world/ fat goose or north face
Rich folk/ big hats for horse race
And now the cops got tanks
Ands there's no gold in the back of the banks
They said the streets don't sleep
So we stayed awake
While they played PlayStation
We played 808s
When survival was a matter of fact
Interest on loans, but I'd rather get jacked
Cause it pays in endorphins
Gen dead they stays in they coffins=
Plugged to the backs of necks
And (. >>>>) still cashing them checks
Track Name: Cultural Vibe
Stepping to the record shop
Half of this punk rock (vinyl addicts)
Seem like we all get along
Activists! (gunshots)
Just came from the flat black (and circular)
Pockets full of fat caps
Even with the meansteaks
Versace with that cat scratch
Y'all can see them rap cats
Only when the tides low
87,88, the cultural vibe show
Pop up in the tape deck
Call up the request line
Jason staten, raging bull
Y'all can spit your best lines
Gather round the park bench
Cypher with the village cats
Before adenya, ETC had the illest raps!
Summertime, walkin with gazelles no fat lace
Got ups on the overpass, haters got the gas face
Around the same time is when I got my first taste
Of ASR-10's and started jackin all the drum breaks
And rappin for the funds sake
Fuck keepin it focused, right?
I met DJ RUCKUS at the open mic
Who knew the breaks that I'd like
And exactly when to get it in
That Mexican kid said "he like the white Eminem" (true story, about me not Steve)
Cut to coffee shops up in the winter that's packed sun
Sweaty artsy chicks and they are ready for some action
Girl I gotta go I catch the catabus the east side
We mob a lot of mustangs, but ain't no fucking free rides
There used to be a bench here, the cops abolished it
What up to all the gutter punks, I stop in for a hobbit stix
Or maybe some midevil with my second favorite deejay
I "smack".. it, like "that ass up" And bounce and catch a replay
And walk around the corner on some hoodie head nod shit
Or holler at the hot chicks and catch up on my gossip
"He rock girbauds?" "I didn't mean to laugh at ya" "been looking for abs,
He been sent back to Africa" Damn!
I never knew the dude the type to rock the gun
But hey, at least now I know how fast officer Lum can run
Doubles on Mars attacks, singles at the smoke shop
You can call me pop rap. Ima call you folk rock
We on the porch, we never miss a rap city.
On tusk ones couch we FIRE CODE CAPACITY

I've been walking around in circles tryin to find my friends
Until then, I'm listening to 89 FM
It's deejay tony tone, DJ BENNY BEN
On Saturday night my friend. It was on 89 FM
Track Name: Bottom $
Coffee in my hand, feeling like a serpent
Zagging through bag people, and humans with purpose
Fresh off the bus stop, minding my business
Sweatshirt and backpack, I'm blinded by visions
Woke up this morning, stranger in the city
Face all pixilated, took to the streets
Faster than traffic, pedestrian magic
They say you can't have it, but gypsies have mastered it
Up to no good, plus I'm the Shit.
Stop for a quick game of 5 minute blitz
Got my ass whipped, it's veterans luck
But something else on my mind, it's better than drugs
I'm out for the Duck today, there's no doubt about it
I memorized my line and I'm about to shout it
It goes "gimme all your money mfcks yeah thanks"
You never thought you'd see sign one robbing that bank
Bad mf with a head full of eels
Stomach fulla butter knives
Fist fulla steel
And it's been about a minute since I manned a decent meal
Plus the 1 finga discount, that shit IS a steal!
You had enough life today? You threw in your skirt?
When worst turns to worse, you might be doin the dirt.
When verse hits the turf and fits the shoe and it hurts
The difference a day made, that's you in the works

We not supposed to be lifelike
My OGs still close to me, right Spike?
It helps to speak truth when the "borrowers debt
Is the only regret of your (my) youth" -fleet foxes
its the black and mild white stripe
For cash I'd be the last man to fight blight
Used to move every 2 now your two houses bout to be out
From under You, who needs proof?
peace to all my backpackers, wack rappers,
crab apples, fact checkers, Best respect
no better master plan than hand to mouth,
Unless your still living check to check
A beer and a shot goes to the boss of the year
Who can't count the handouts it cost to get here
He's procrastinive (a word?) taught the kid to shave face
Running these raps like we rats in the same race
Like "hey dad, I wish we had the same rates"
We borrowed our debt and our death at the same pace
And the homies : "live long and prosper"
Teach all the shit that I should have taught ya

But that's when it hits me, at least before I hit 50
That I'll be leaving this city and learn to walk like a gypsy
Down to beaners (what's bigby?) this life can't last long
All I ever wanted was to write that rap song

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