[Intro – Swamp Crickets + Accordion]
[Boat motor humming slow]
Bienvenue dans le bayou…
[808 crashes in]
Where the ghosts got accents…
and the hustlers wear alligator skin.
⸻
[Verse 1]
🎶
Lafitte moon glow over blackwater waves,
Gold grill shine like a crypt got diamonds.
Swamp-born player with the voodoo cadence,
Talk slick, smell like smoke and danger.
Mon Dieu, the flow too haunted, cher,
Cypress trees whisper when I appear.
Whole bayou know my silhouette,
Move like a Rougaroux in baguette leather.
Got funeral swagger in a silk trench coat,
Codeine philosophy in a fishing boat.
I’m from where the saints sip dark liquor slow,
And the devils say “laissez les bons temps rouler.”
Shorty said:
“Baby, your aura feel cursed.”
I said:
“Nah, ma chère… just Louisiana first.”
Then laughed while the thunder rolled sideways,
Like God DJ’d the storm playlist.
🎶
⸻
[Hook – Choir + Heavy Brass]
🎶
Lafitte moon shine blood-red tonight…
Bayou dreams underneath streetlights.
Lafitte moon over my soul…
Black water made my heart cold.
Lafitte moon, hear the swamp sing low…
Bienvenue au tombeau.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 2]
🎶
Flow got mud on it, fresh out the marshes,
Pain dressed clean in Italian garments.
I got cemetery manners at dinner tables,
Probably why success feel unstable.
Big knots stuffed in the gator wallet,
Ghosts in my head still speak Cajun.
Mama said:
“Boy, don’t dance with demons.”
Too late—
we two-steppin’ in the deep end.
I’m poetic ‘cause survival sharpened me,
Like broken glass in flood debris.
Even my punchlines got humidity,
Every bar drip Southern misery.
Cherie kissed my neck in candle smoke,
Said:
“Baby, you move like New Orleans ghosts.”
I told her:
“That’s just trauma with rhythm.”
Then disappeared into the fog with the crickets.
🎶
⸻
[Bridge – Spoken + Organ]
Down here…
the swamp don’t separate myth from memory.
Everything become legend eventually.
🎶
Black river move beneath moonlit skies…
Even the dead still socialize.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 3]
🎶
I got alligator patience and preacher instincts,
Talk fly but my soul still sinkin’.
Louisiana made me elegant and dangerous,
Like jazz music during hurricanes.
But I ain’t complainin’, nah, this home,
Even when the swamp sing funeral songs.
Because pain gave flavor to my voice,
And survival made poetry my choice.
So if you hear accordion through the mist,
And gold teeth flash near the river edge—
That might just be me and my ghosts outside,
Still rappin’ under Cajun skies.
🎶
⸻
[Final Hook – Full Orchestra + Choir]
🎶
Lafitte moon over the bayou tide…
Swamp-born soul still survive.
Lafitte moon glow through the rain…
Louisiana forever in my veins.
🎶
⸻
[Outro – Accordion + Thunder]
[Boat motor fades into swamp ambience]
Bonsoir, mon frère…
and watch the water.
