I’m a Christian Rapper, Poet, and Spoken Wordsmith Master.
I was born in 1983 in Washington, D.C. on Christmas Day. Merry Christmas, Mom! I Love You Lynette Marie Mungo!
The only part of my life I remember starts at the age of 6 when I moved to Oklahoma. From the age of 6-18 I went from shelter to foster home. At the age of 16 I was adopted by a family in Lawton, Oklahoma. I learned to rap better and dance.
One of the greatest relationships I had was with someone I call my brother, LeQuinton J. Bell, better known as L.J. Though I was in a foster home, he treated me like a real brother. He helped push me to keep rapping and pursuing my dream. At the time, I went by Chris, which is short for Christopher, my middle name. I will never forget L.J.’s words: “If anyone is going to make it, it’s going to be Chris.”
From there I kept writing and graduated from Lawton High School. I chose to keep going with my music. It was motivation that someone believed that I had enough in me to succeed in my dreams. I moved to Norman then to OKC and formed a rap group called 2xxl with Donelle Cole, better known as Dillusion, but who now goes by the name, Preach. We started recruiting others, like Anthony Holmes, known as A.T., Dontay Pompey, known as D’Loe-myte, and Justin Brown, known as J. Prez. We performed in different parts of Oklahoma and made a little noice for a bit. I later added battle rap to my resume. I started traveling outside of Oklahoma. That’s when I realized writing was for me. Spoken Word/Poetry came later.
FAQ: What am I motivated by? I am motivated by things I see and witness in the world. I take it and use it to my advantage by manipulating words to fit ideas that form in my head.
Where did you get the name Dilemma? The name, Dilemma, actually was given to me by a female friend of mine named Jakreshia. She thought it fit perfect because I would have females fighting over me at Lawton High School in Lawton, Oklahoma. I liked the name and ran with it.
How do you define yourself being called Dilemma? I look at the name Dilemma as a difficult problem that others are trying to figure out but don’t quite comprehend everything that is spoken. From metaphors, similes, or double entrendre, I form these relatable subjects to connect with those around me that motivate me.
What is your goal when you write? My goal is to make it difficult for me and others to write the next verse or poem because of the last thing I wrote. I always want my work to be better than the last. I am my own worst critic, so it is difficult to accomplish that. I also used to Battle Rap. I loved the way Battle Rappers formatted their words or their wordplay. I took that idea and catered to my surroundings in an art form of spoken word.
So where did StrokeGameVicious come from? Stroke Game Vicious is one word, though I separated it in this sentence. I first came up with it because of my pen game. When I write, I think of it as my pen stroke game is nice. I has tagged it a lot. Eventually, it turned into something else and I just let people’s imaginations start running away with the name StrokeGameVicious.
As a whole, what are you trying to accomplish? I just want to inspire an entire nation of people to say what’s on their mind in a way that influences the world to see things from a different set of lenses instead of your own. Take other ideas into consideration. Keep your morals, values, and beliefs because there is only one you and no one can mimic that but be honest with those around you and with yourself.
During the course of my life, I have been blessed by God to have been given four beautiful children. Indemionia Jones (daughter), In’Dayvionia Washington (daughter), Lyric Beam (son), and King Grant (son). I love you all from the bottom of my heart! You are all Kings and Queens. GOD BLESS.
FIGURES . . .
I’m trying to be a better father figure,
Since I figured my father didn’t want to bother with us,
Was tired of living back and forth without a pot to piss in,
I got so used to moving I can’t say it’s not addictive,
It never was a thought that I would mimic,
The same footsteps once I looked back . . .shoot my father did it,
Still have no idea who he is though my pops was missin’,
I made every effort to not be in my pop’s position,
I felt just like my father . . . figures,
I didn’t see this coming . . . I feel like I lost the vision,
But am I the victim?
Naw . . . and time is ticking,
And change was supposed to start with me but I reside in prison,
But now my mind has shifted,
I’m thinking outside of the box this time instead of climbing in it,
I’ll defy the limit and expectations the system said that I couldn’t finish, I’m not a number and I’m not gone succumb to the opposition,
Of me being a person because of a cop’s intentions,
I’m not gonna listen nor make any propositions with no politicians,
So they can take their loud malicious gossip with em’,
I’ve suffered enough consequences,
But how do we get even when the odds against us?
Common sense would say stop pretending,
Like everything is ok when this box we live in,
Is so infected by greed we need amoxicillin,
It’s funny how violence is not offensive,
It’s become the norm like washing dishes or prisons
with locks & fences,
Hands up don’t shoot that’s what was brought to millions,
Yet we still can’t stop the killin’,
Whether it’s now or back then there’s not a difference,
From being shot by a cop or lynching,
This the generation my kids growing up in and it’s not appealin’, No need to block the feelin’,
Because they so used to it that it doesn’t shock the children, Crazy isn’t it?
Figures . . .