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Lyrics
[Verse]
Pops in the kitchen, whipping pots on the stove,
Mom’s in the back, counting stacks, staying bold,
I came from the hustle, where the streets never fold,
Tired of the drugs, let my story be told.
[Verse 2]
Granny’s prayers up, while my brothers in the game,
Chasing paper routes, tryna make a name,
Dodging feds, living fast, feeling the same,
Tired of the judgement, this struggle ain't no fame.
[Chorus]
Family made it out, from the soil we rise,
Breaking all chains, ain't no compromise,
Tired of the weight, all the deceit and lies,
Walking a new path, reaching for the skies.
[Verse 3]
Uncles got tales of the life they used to live,
Street wisdom passed down, lessons they give,
Dollar dreams, real schemes, staying positive,
Leaving behind the mess, got the focus to live.
[Verse 4]
From the block to the boardroom, suits and ties,
No more corner talks, it's enterprise,
Vision bigger now, the past left to die,
Burning up the charts, sparks will fly.
[Chorus]
Family made it out, from the soil we rise,
Breaking all chains, ain't no compromise,
Tired of the weight, all the deceit and lies,
Walking a new path, reaching for the skies.
Details
GeneratedJan 29, 2025
Duration1:39
LanguageEnglish
Style
hip-hop, rap, raw, gritty
Credits
Prompt byVirtualTempo476
ModelAria v4
Prompt
Tired of the drugs the struggles and judgement I came from a family whose made it off of hustling Rap
