Intro (spoken, soft)
This is for the corners that taught me how to count my blessings in quarters,
for the stoops that held sermons between cigarette smoke and cassette tapes.
Verse 1
I’m from the vinyl crackle, porch light flicker, prayer and petty theft,
where growin’ up meant learnin’ how to split a hope from the rest.
Mama foldin’ Sundays into pockets, tuckin’ change under seams,
my cradle was a shopping cart, lullabies on cracked AM dreams.
Neighborhood prophets in wool caps preachin’ scripture in a cipher,
teach you how to bow to hunger, keep your hunger from the viper.
We baptize in puddles of last night’s neon, promise keepers, promise breakers,
I learned the difference between a soldier and the soldier that’s fakin’.
So when I say I’m from these streets — feel the syllable sink like gravel,
every step a ledger, every breath a gamble, angels try to travel.
Pre-Chorus
And the blocks keep talkin’ back — asphalt tongues, coded maps,
sirens write my margins, every corner snapping caps.
Chorus (anthem)
I’m from these streets, where the sky's a ceiling and the ceiling’s on fire,
I’m from these streets, where we trade our futures for a fifteen-minute wire.
I’m from these streets, runnin’ prayers through the palm like a rosary,
I wear my city on my chest, it’s heavy — still I carry it for free.
Verse 2
Teachers told me destiny’s a book you write, not a scene you inherit,
but the pages turn to wanted posters with a warrant in the margins.
Police lights and porch lights blink like eyes that never sleep,
neighbors whisper destinies in code, “boy, don’t trust what you keep.”
We hugged each other’s scars — reparations in the form of band-aids,
and we learned to metabolize the cold; celebrate in small parades.
My homie sold the hardship as a hustle, profit out the pain,
another brother paid the tuition with the grave as his last name.
So I pen confessions on a pad of bills, pray the ink won’t fade,
testify in subway tunnels, where the echoes teach the faith.
This city’s got a pulpit on every corner, sermons served in alleyways,
preachin’ “get ahead, or get got,” choose your sermon, choose your phase.
Bridge (half-spoken, rising)
We was taught to count receipts before we counted blessings,
to calculate the next move while mama stitched the hems of lessons.
Love in emergency, hope in installments — that’s faith with interest,
still I sing to concrete like it listens — like it might lift us.
Chorus (anthem — harder)
I’m from these streets, where the sky's a ceiling and the ceiling’s on fire,
I’m from these streets, where we trade our futures for a fifteen-minute wire.
I’m from these streets, runnin’ prayers through the palm like a rosary,
I wear my city on my chest, it’s heavy — still I carry it for free.
Outro
Porque music
See you when I see you
Otro
porquemusicOtro
