L2B Fights the Fog With Raw Honesty on His Latest Single “DAZED”

When self-doubt creeps in, L2B doesn’t fold; he fires back with bars. Since 2014, L2B (aka Luke) has been grinding in the shadows and shining in the spotlight, stacking millions of plays across YouTube, Soundcloud, and more. From New Haven to Hollywood to Harlem, this rapper’s journey has been anything but linear, but that’s exactly what forged his razor-sharp storytelling and fearless wit. After three mixtapes and a critically acclaimed debut album, he’s now gearing up for his fifth project, The Gallery. And the new single? It’s a statement.

“DAZED” dives into the trenches of the creative mind, the highs, the self-doubt, the moments you question if it’s even worth it. The hook doesn’t sugarcoat it. Sometimes you feel like giving up. Sometimes you wonder why you started in the first place. But the verses? They don’t just pull you back from the edge; they remind you why you fell in love with the hustle in the first place.

“I like to keep one foot on the ground with my head in the clouds.. It's okay to feel both ways.”

That balance is the beating heart of "DAZED." It’s not just a track, it’s an anthem for every artist, every dreamer, and every nine-to-fiver fighting to keep their spark alive. L2B doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. Instead, he delivers raw, unfiltered truth and lets the beats carry the weight of resilience.

"We have to build ourselves back up sometimes. This song is my reminder that loving yourself is the best way to love everyone around you as well.”

As The Gallery looms on the horizon, “DAZED” sets the tone: this isn’t just music. It’s therapy. It’s battle cries. It’s the sound of someone who’s been knocked down and still chose to hit record.

“DAZED” hits deep for anyone who's felt stuck chasing a dream—what was the breaking point that inspired you to write it?

I'm not sure there was a breaking point specifically. That feeling of being stuck, needing better luck, comes and goes. I've battled depression throughout my life, and I used to think that I overcame it, in my teens, but I'm not sure it ever goes away. I think it's about learning the power of changing your mindset, adapting, and seeing the positive light in things, even if it's only fantasy for now. That fantasy, or blind faith, carries me back to the possibilities of it all. I'm forever grateful to have this creative outlet because I have no clue who or where I'd be without it.

Your hook captures raw vulnerability, while the verses fight back with confidence. How do you personally balance those highs and lows as an artist?

It can be tough going through the highs and lows. I think most artists have that underlying feeling of what else can I do, or what else do I need to get that exposure for my work? How can I get that recognition? Is it even worth it? I recently had a song pulled from streaming because it got placed on an artificial playlist without my control. All of that work, time, and financial investment was just quickly stripped away from me, and it hurt. It's my art, and someone else just regulated it. The only way I could move on was to just continue creating more.

Looking back at your journey from New Haven to Harlem, how have those cities shaped the storyteller you are today?

Growing up in New Haven shaped a lot of who I am. I was the white kid from the hood, who wasn't taken seriously until he rapped. I was supported and protected because people believed in me, but I was around a lot of gangs, guns, and drugs, too. I've lost good friends in New Haven, and there's a trauma from that city that stays with me. But I'll always love it and see it as home. Living in Hollywood, California, and then Harlem, New York, really gave me independence as an adult. Hollywood showed me how dreams are made and how important networking can be. Harlem brought culture and authenticity. My wife and I had our son in Harlem, so I really learned how to be a provider and protector for my family. All of those experiences offered me a lot of creative content that I'm probably still processing and putting into my work today.

You’ve built a catalog that’s both relatable and unapologetically honest. What’s been the hardest truth you’ve had to put into a song so far?

I always go back to my first mixtape, there's a tribute song to a friend of mine, Maurice, we knew him as Moe Milly. He was killed in a gang beef, and that shit wasn't worth his life. That was my first real loss, I think, and I just remember crying while writing that song, because I couldn't believe it, and wished I could've done something. I listen to that song now and have no memory of creating it, really.. Like I blacked out. The stories I tell in that song are all very real memories.. The writing of it is so fluid and honest that I almost envy how well I did it now, and I'm not sure if I can capture that again. But maybe I'm not supposed to.

With The Gallery on the way, what can fans expect—are we getting more introspection, or are you switching the vibe up this time?

They can definitely expect more storytelling, more introspection, and more experimentation. At heart, I am and always will be a hip-hop artist. It's how I write. I'm also inspired by a lot of genres like rock, pop, afrobeats, reggaeton, house music, because you hear different melodies and formulas of how a song is made. There's so much great music out there that inspires me. Right now, I'm kind of in a mode of challenging myself to see how my writing could fit the mold of different song structures. So you may hear songs that sound totally different from the last one, even genre-wise. I'm really having fun and enjoying the ride, though, and at this point, that's what matters to me.