2 Jobs & 2 Sons

[Intro]
Yeah
This for the ones still trying
Late nights, early mornings
Keep going
[Verse 1]
Wake up, sun not up yet
Cereal, same old carpet
Mom’s shoes by the front door
She kissing both foreheads, “I’m off, boys”
Apron in a backpack
Second shift, then the night class
Big bro pour milk, wipes the table
Says, “Eat up, we gonna be able”
Walk lil bro to the bus stop
Old hoodie, but his chin up
He say, “One day we gon’ move, watch”
Points at the sky like a wristwatch
After school, he cook noodles
Cartoons loud in a small room
Homework spread on the floor space
He spelling words while she learns new phrases
[Chorus]
Two jobs, two sons, one prayer
She tired, but she always there
Lights low, but the hope burns brighter
We fall, we rise, we climb higher
From the bus rides, to the night-time books
To the tear-stained checks, to the “one more look”
We ain’t got much, but we got this love
Two jobs, two sons, one prayer, one us (yeah)
[Verse 2]
Mom come home with her shoes off
Feet sore, but her eyes talk
Accent thick, but her will strong
She practicing her words as the night long
“Future,” “better,” “American dream”
She sound it out in the window’s steam
Big bro like a little dad
Pack lunches with the change they have
He tucks lil bro in, “You safe”
Draws superheroes on his pillowcase
Says, “Ma learning letters so I can translate
Turn your cartoons into contracts one day”
He mop spills, he fold clothes
Stares at the fridge with the late bills posted
Then he writes goals on a notebook
“House for Ma” at the top in bold print
[Chorus]
Two jobs, two sons, one prayer
She tired, but she always there
Lights low, but the hope burns brighter
We fall, we rise, we climb higher
From the bus rides, to the night-time books
To the tear-stained checks, to the “one more look”
We ain’t got much, but we got this love
Two jobs, two sons, one prayer, one us (oh yeah)
[Bridge]
They don’t see the dishes in the cold sink
The broken English at the door, “I try speak”
The boy standing like a shield when the rent due
“Talk to me, sir, my mama been through”
They don’t see her hands shake on the exam sheet
Or him counting every coin by the cracked seat
But every “sorry we can’t” turned to “watch me”
Every closed door just a hallway
[Chorus]
Two jobs, two sons, one prayer
She tired, but she always there
Lights low, but the hope burns brighter
We fall, we rise, we climb higher
From the bus rides, to the night-time books
To the tear-stained checks, to the “one more look”
We ain’t got much, but we got this love
Two jobs, two sons, one prayer, one us (one us)
Two jobs, two sons, one prayer, that’s us

rap, Warm, cinematic boom-bap with gentle piano loop and soft choir pads under mid-tempo drums; male vocals locked in a storytelling pocket, verses intimate and close-mic, chorus opening with stacked sung hooks and airy ad-libs, subtle bass swells and light strings lifting the final hook for a hopeful, triumphant feel