Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Back row kid Hood up, headphones Lunch table laughs I was eating alone Cut class, cracked screen Scrolling through fights Best friend said "We gon’ make it alright" Then the DMs stopped You switched up sides High school halls Felt smaller inside Fake smiles, fake hugs Everyone pressed "Bro, you good?" I just said, "Yes" [Chorus] Fuck rap, I’m just tryna stay alive Clock in, clock out, then I drive Empty in my chest, but I grind Every long night asking, "Will it be my time?" Fuck rap, I just wanna pay the rent Make sure moms never worry ’bout a cent If I blow, cool, if I don’t, fine I’m still getting up, still getting mine [Verse 2] Cap and gown pics We ain’t standin’ together You was in the back row Smilin’ like forever I was front stage Shakin’ with my letter Thinkin’ ’bout the nights We swore we’d do better Now it’s ten-hour shifts Cold drive home Fast food wrapper Passenger throne Group chat dead Phone on mute Only thing talkin’ Is the rent that’s due [Chorus] Fuck rap, I’m just tryna stay alive Clock in, clock out, then I drive Empty in my chest, but I grind Every long night asking, "Will it be my time?" Fuck rap, I just wanna pay the rent Make sure moms never worry ’bout a cent If I blow, cool, if I don’t, fine I’m still getting up, still getting mine [Bridge] I ain’t lookin’ for a deal I’m lookin’ for a way out I don’t wanna be a star I just wanna see a payout If these words hit Then they hit, that’s that I’m just talkin’ to myself On this track [Chorus] Fuck rap, I’m just tryna stay alive Clock in, clock out, then I drive Empty in my chest, but I grind Every long night asking, "Will it be my time?" Fuck rap, I just wanna pay the rent Make sure moms never worry ’bout a cent If I blow, cool, if I don’t, fine I’m still getting up, still getting mine
Tags
rap, Dark, moody trap with male vocals; muted keys and distant pads under a slow, knocking groove. Verses stay close and conversational, tucked into the pocket with subtle pitch-shifted ad-libs. Hook explodes with distorted 808s, layered gang vocals on the title phrase, and a gritty, shouted energy. Final chorus strips back to half-time drums and eerie textures, spotlighting the raw vocal., fake
Duration
2:52
Instrumental
No
Created
3/8/2026