**[Verse 1]**
**They used to see me behind the glass, hands on the MPC,**
**Never thought the producer would step out and MC.**
**But I been sharp since the decks—Mellomix on the fade,**
**Zone 15 taught me how legends are made.**
**Lincoln Heights in my veins, tri-state know the name,**
**Not from rap alone—nah, I switched up the game.**
**Opened up a spot where the hood come to eat,**
**Fish, chicken and ribs, plus three sides to go with the meat.**
**Built something real while I’m molding these acts,**
**Thirteen deep in the roster, none of ’em wack.**
**From gospel to grit, R&B to the streets,**
**COOLHOUSE the foundation—I’m laying the beats.**
-----
**[Hook]**
**Fifty-seven, still growing, still glowing,**
**My son watching close—so I keep it flowing.**
**Every day’s a Tray Day, yeah, that’s how we live,**
**Thirty years strong, got so much more to give.**
-----
**[Verse 2]**
**My boy got bars that’ll make a veteran sweat,**
**So when Pops grab the pen, can’t come with regret.**
**He think I’m just the beats? Nah, I’m multi-dimensional,**
**Proof that growth at any age is essential.**
**I don’t list my wins—I let the work speak loud,**
**Photography, design, building talent from the ground.**
**Shortbody, Squirrel Mak, Leroy with the miracle,**
**Mr. Zay on Sunday—yeah, the vision is biblical.**
**Tracy by my side, thirty winters, thirty springs,**
**Two grown kids watching how a king does things.**
**Not competing with my seed—just showing him the path,**
**How you stay evolving while you’re doing the math.**
-----
**[Bridge]**
**They expect you to stop when the gray hairs show,**
**But I’m proof that the fire only continues to grow.**
**From the decks to the stove to the booth to the lens,**
**Real ones reinvent—we don’t follow trends.**
-----
**[Hook]**
**Fifty-seven, still growing, still glowing,**
**My son watching close—so I keep it flowing.**
**Every day’s a Tray Day, yeah, that’s how we live,**
**Thirty years strong, got so much more to give.**
I’m certifiable on a COOLHOUSE verse,
What’s worse? Every contender is cursed.
Ever been punched in the liver?
Bodied flows, I deliver
Combat straight to the spine—
I’ll watch the body quiver,
Resurrected, but no hearse
On this COOLHOUSE verse.
Wit flames so blazing hot,
My lyrical style can’t be doused.
I’m in this booth, I’m obligated
Making it hot, like it’s my spouse—
Freaking my flow, blow for blow,
I’ll give you some mo’. You should know
I feel better now,
‘Cause now I’ve spitted it out—
Tray Day ,every day,
No question. ,no doubt.
VirtualPattern810
