Black Rag on the Block

[Intro]
C-O-M-P-T to the O-N-S
Yeah the finest
Black rag, Willie Banz, Santana block
Rest in peace Nip, you left a big hole in the game
[Verse 1]
C-O-M-P-T to the O-N, step light
Posted on the corner where they gamble for they next life
Black rag folded in the pocket, not for stage lights
Mama say she praying, I been dancing with a strange fight
Homies on them fades, now they faces on the spray paint
Tears on the curb, every raindrop the same shade
Cuzz I gotta fill it, all this weight on the same plate
If they waiting on a leader, I ain’t flinch when my name came
[Chorus]
C-O-M-P-T to the O-N, yeah we ride like that
Black rag on the block, can’t hide like that
R.I.P. to Nip, you left the lane like that
Big hole in the game, I gotta slide right back
C-O-M-P-T to the O-N, put my name on that
From the pain to the plaques, never change on that
C.O.M.P.T. to the O.N.S, we don’t bend, don’t crack
Big hole in the game, I gotta slide right back
[Verse 2]
These niggas is trippin, turn a story to a hashtag
Talking like they built it, never laid a brick, that’s cap
I remember bus stop nights, cold wind, thin jacket
Now they wanna stand in the pic, wrong caption
Candlelight flicker where the real ones sleep
I be talking to the sky when the hood don’t speak
Told cuz I’ma run it till the wheels run free
If they ever see me fall, that’s the field on me
[Chorus]

rap, Moody West Coast rap, swung drums and heavy bass, eerie keys with subtle guitar phrases. Verses in a confident mid-tempo pocket, ad-libs tucked in the sides. Hook widens with stacked vocals and a simple chant. Male vocals, gritty but melodic on the chorus, tight and dry mix for an up-close street confessional.