Yeah, I was raised where the angels never fly through,
Fiends on the corner lightin’ pipes like it’s a drive-thru.
Momma worked doubles, pops ghost—guess he tried to,
But absence taught me hunger, and pressure made my mind move.
I don’t rap for the club spins or TikTok dances,
I write verses like eulogies—script God’s chances.
These bars ain’t entertainment, it’s therapy in stanzas,
Still got trauma I ain’t faced from them nights with no answers.
They told me chill, be humble, I told ‘em humble’s a risk,
When you come from empty plates and rumblin’ fists.
Grew up with cold winters, but summer was sick,
’Cause that’s when killers come home and youngins run with a clip.
[Hook]
Yeah, these ain’t rhymes, this is pain in a cadence,
Lessons from the block written out in quotations.
You either build with your brothers or you face separation,
’Cause the feds love to fish where they see desperation.
[Verse 2]
I seen dudes trade loyalty for likes on a post,
But when the pressure come, them comments ain’t holdin’ you close.
Heard the preacher talk peace, but the shooters the most,
Blessed be the trigger finger, that’s communion for ghosts.
Used to want the Rollie with the bezel that dance,
‘Til I realized time’s what they stealin’ in advance.
My man caught five, lawyer said he ain’t stand a chance,
Now he readin’ law books, plottin’ freedom from a cell by the lamp.
We don’t cry over spills, we just live with the stains,
Some stains turned to wisdom, others trigger the pain.
They love to quote my wins, never mention the strain,
But my losses built character they could never explain.
[Hook]
These ain’t rhymes, this is pain in a cadence,
Lessons from the block written out in quotations.
You either build with your brothers or you face separation,
’Cause the feds love to fish where they see desperation.
