Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Red dirt on these busted Nikes Corner store meals, hot fries and an iced tea Phone jumpin, I’m thumbin through a light piece Still duckin plate numbers creepin by twice a week Mama in the kitchen, tryna bless the rice I’m in the backyard, stashin what I can’t price Neighbors pullin blinds down every time they hear us I just pull my hood low, pockets full of spirits [Chorus] I fall asleep to sirens in Baton Rouge Gunshots countin out the life I choose If I wake up, then I swear I’ll move But the block say “stay,” and the rent say “you” I fall asleep to sirens in Baton Rouge Dreams taped up with that silver glue If I make it out, I’ma change this view But the night come back, and the night say “you” (you, you) [Verse 2] Lil cuz got a tag on his first stick Say he only tote it just to feel big I remember bein him, on that first lick Heart beatin harder than the car we had to ditch Church on Sunday, choir drown the street talk Monday morning, I’m back at the re-up Judge write futures with a cheap pen We just write our names on the cement [Chorus] I fall asleep to sirens in Baton Rouge Gunshots countin out the life I choose If I wake up, then I swear I’ll move But the block say “stay,” and the rent say “you” I fall asleep to sirens in Baton Rouge Dreams taped up with that silver glue If I make it out, I’ma change this view But the night come back, and the night say “you” (you, you)
Tags
rap, Moody Southern trap beat around 140 BPM, skittering hi-hats and dark, droning synths; male vocals with a husky laid-back delivery. Verses stay close and conversational, 808s humming under the voice, then chorus widens with layered ad-libs and a pitched-down vocal double. Occasional eerie piano stabs and distant siren FX weaving in and out for atmosphere, final hook riding out with a lingering echo.
Duration
2:06
Instrumental
No
Created
3/21/2026