[Intro – Organ + Crickets]
[Bible pages turning slowly]
The swamp got commandments too…
[Bass creeps in]
Rule one:
never let hunger see fear.
⸻
[Verse 1]
🎶
Swamp scripture carved in my backbone,
Talk slick ‘cause survival raised my tone.
Mama said pray, daddy said hustle,
Now my spirit torn between faith and muscle.
Gold grill gleam like forbidden fruit,
I done sold dreams in designer boots.
Louisiana mud still stuck to the sole,
Probably why the devil know my soul.
Flow cold like floodwater baptisms,
Pain gave me luxury superstitions.
I got graveyard etiquette and trenchcoat game,
Smile wide while I wrestle shame.
Crows fly low when the storm near,
Same way success pull fake peers.
I learned real quick:
money loud…
but loneliness got surround sound.
🎶
⸻
[Hook – Choir + Heavy Bass]
🎶
Swamp scriptures…
Read ‘em slow…
Every verse got black water flow.
Swamp scriptures…
Pain and pride…
Louisiana carved what I hide.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 2]
🎶
I’m from where the pastors got side chicks,
And the dope boys quote scriptures accurate.
Where the choir still sing through addictions,
And survival become religion.
Codeine dreams under neon crosses,
Everybody flexin’, everybody exhausted.
Even the saints move cautious here,
Too much death in the atmosphere.
My homie said:
“Pain make poets or killers.”
Guess I became both with expensive liquor.
Now my bars smell like cemetery roses,
Flooded churches and unopened emotions.
I wear trauma tailored and stitched precise,
Southern nights gave me cold advice.
Like:
never trust calm river streams…
and never tell the world your weakest things.
🎶
⸻
[Bridge – Spoken + Choir]
The swamp don’t hand out wisdom gently.
Nah…
it drown you first.
🎶
Black sky hang over cypress trees…
Every ghost still speak through me.
🎶
⸻
[Verse 3]
🎶
Sometimes I think the mud remember names,
Every hustler swallowed by the game.
Every mother cryin’ through unpaid bills,
Every young boy raised too real.
But somehow the South still gorgeous though,
Spanish moss and funeral gold.
That’s the curse:
beauty live beside pain,
Till eventually they become the same.
🎶
⸻
[Final Hook – Full Choir + Brass]
🎶
Swamp scriptures…
Still survive…
Even when the levee break inside.
Swamp scriptures…
Read my scars…
Louisiana wrote these bars.
🎶
⸻
[Outro – Thunder + Organ]
[Water ripples slowly]
Down here…
wisdom usually come muddy.
