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Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Brown bag on the bottle
Dice game in the hallway
Old heads yelling "shorty
You gon' end up in the wrong place"
Chrome tucked in a starter coat
Dark eyes
Heart gone colder
Crew posted by the corner store
Every kid trying to be older
Saw a dude flash thick cash
Thought that made him a target
One nod
One quick plan
Now they walking through the projects
Whispered
"Wait for the back steps
He always leaves through the side"
You can hear the radiator knocking
Same time as his pride
[Chorus]
These are grimy corner tales
Where the fast life always fails
Everybody chasing quick wins
Till the blood stains under their Timbs
Grimy corner tales
Same story under different veils
Tryna live large for a minute
Then a cell locks and you in it
[Verse 2]
He ran up
Hands steady
At least that’s what he told friends
But his voice shook on the last word
When he told it again
Dude reached
Scared for his wallet
Thought he grabbed for a blade
Finger slipped
Loud crack
Night sky tearing like tape
Neighbors at the window
Frozen
Sirens talking from afar
One kid standing in a puddle
Asking
"How deep are we now?"
Judge read out twenty-five
Like reading off a bus time
He said "I only wanted paper"
But paper cost him his whole life
[Chorus]
These are grimy corner tales
Where the fast life always fails
Everybody chasing quick wins
Till the blood stains under their Timbs
Grimy corner tales
Same story under different veils
Tryna live large for a minute
Then a cell locks and you in it
Details
GeneratedApr 1, 2026
Duration1:42
LanguageEnglish
Style
Dusty 90s boom-bap with swung drums, filtered jazz loop, and gritty vinyl crackle. Male vocals sitting upfront, doubled on key punchlines. Hooks ride a hypnotic bassline with subtle turntable cuts; verses stay tight and story-driven, building from low simmer to hard-hitting street snapshots.
Credits
Prompt by
SpaceWalker
SpaceWalkerModelAria v5
Prompt
90s old school rapping about ganking, robbing and murder
