Intro (choir)
Mmm… hands up for the long nights,
Hands up for the wrong rights turned right.
We made light.
Verse 1
Mama humming over vinyl crackle—stove-light halo, prayer as armor.
Coupons in the Bible, paper castles; built from scraps into honors.
Pothole routes to honor roll, still I coasted,
Dreams Polaroid-bright, future underexposed but focused.
Kitchen-table math: rent due, faith due—
Found out interest compounds only if patience do.
Part penitent, part penmanship—bar chemist,
Whip syllables, jar wisdom, let the scars finish.
They said “tone it down,” I turned the meters up;
Ceilings looked low till I kneed the beamer up.
Shoelace budgets, double-knotted hope—
Every “no” became a stepping-stone note.
Pre-Hook
Pressure makes pearls; we the ocean’s reply.
Dust off the dirt and let the diamonds say “hi.”
Hook (choir + lead)
We turn pressure into pearls, that’s a rosary glow,
Rose-gold underdog from the coldest of snow.
When the door said “locked,” we composed us a code—
Now the chorus is a key; watch it open the road.
Rose-gold underdog, heart heavy but bold;
We the story they can’t mold, we the prophecy told.
Verse 2
News loops tragedies to harvest clicks;
I tuned to my journal—proof of grit.
Truth is expensive—paid in silence and miles,
In rooms that clap your jokes but tax your smiles.
Met fear at the bodega; he tried to front:
“Credit or regret?” I paid in stunts.
Leapt faith on rent day, balcony to sunrays,
Made symphonies from unpaid Mondays.
I’m not anti-bling; I’m pro-substance—
Let the chain weigh less than the soul’s circumference.
If I boast, it’s that my people eating first,
And we bless the table till the curses reverse.
Pre-Hook
Pressure makes pearls; we the ocean’s reply.
Dust off the dirt and let the diamonds say “hi.”
Hook
We turn pressure into pearls, that’s a rosary glow,
Rose-gold underdog from the coldest of snow.
When the door said “locked,” we composed us a code—
Now the chorus is a key; watch it open the road.
Bridge (half-time, gospel stack)
Hold on—when the night gets loud, be quiet as a vow.
Hold on—let the storm run out; we pilot the cloud.
Hold on—write your name in light, not lost in the crowd.
Hold on—every “can’t” is fuel; throw it under the plow.
Verse 3 (razor run)
Pavement pupil, honor student of the hunger;
Major in minor keys, thunder getting younger.
Flip cold starts to warm charts, low sparks to gold arcs;
Barcode the hardships, scan ‘em at the art mart.
Curb talks, curb shoes; learned blues in church pews,
Paid dues for first views; now the world cues.
Pen drips proof; pages alibi.
I don’t chase a crown—I calibrate the sky.
If success is a language, I’m fluent in margins,
With punctuation of a purpose that rejects all pardons.
Final Hook (bigger; last line a cappella)
We turn pressure into pearls, that’s a rosary glow,
Rose-gold underdog from the coldest of snow.
When the door said “locked,” we composed us a code—
