[Intro] [Acoustic guitar riff, raw and bluesy. Heavy trap drums kick in hard.] (Spoken, gritty) Yeah. Let's open the inventory. Borrowed home. Borrowed life. [Verse 1] [Rap Flow - Deliberate and heavy] Started with radio and books for friends. Hiding in the closet, wondering where it ends. Then the script flipped—new name, new house. Told to be grateful, told to be quiet as a mouse. Twenty-four-hour notice just to pack up being a kid. Felt like my true self was something that I always hid. White walls, white parents, strict and cold. Living out a story that I was never really told. (Never told.) [Chorus] [Sung Anthem. Big and Powerful.] Oh, the loneliness of a BORROWED HOME! Feeling like a garden that was never fully grown! I was just a TROPHY BLACK CHILD on the shelf! Trying to find a piece of my own damn self! Polished on the outside, empty in the head. Hanging onto crumbs of love where I was fed. Yeah, I was just a trophy. (On the shelf.) [Verse 2] [Rap Flow - Aggressive and pointed] Let's talk about the times you used me as a tool. Making me feel small, acting like a fool. You knew how to use my skin to win an argument. Weaponized my race for your own amusement. Bring me out for company, show off how "good" you are. Use me to prove a point at a dinner party bar. Making other people feel racist just to get your way. While I’m standing right there, dying every single day. I wasn't your daughter, I was just your moral high ground. The loudest silence that I ever found. [Chorus] [Sung Anthem. Stomp-Clap Beat.] Oh, the loneliness of a BORROWED HOME! Feeling like a garden that was never fully grown! I was just a TROPHY BLACK CHILD on the shelf! Trying to find a piece of my own damn self! Polished on the outside, empty in the head. Hanging onto crumbs of love where I was fed. Just a trophy. [Verse 3] [Rap Flow - Building tension] Let's look back at the life I was in back then. Flea-filled carpets and scary-ass men. The first mother who just let me go... Versus the cold white walls putting on a show. Which one is home? Man, I'll never know. One was total chaos, the other one was ice. Both of 'em came with a heavy f***ing price. [Bridge] [Music builds to climax. Rock guitars heavy.] But there was a "Thank You, Jesus" in my head! From that camp where my spirit was actually fed! Camp Krislund heart! That's all I really had! When everything else around me was going bad! I ain't your trophy no more! I'm kicking down the door! [Guitar Solo] [Gritty, distorted country-rock solo] [Final Chorus] [Maximum volume. Choir effect on backing vocals.] Oh, the loneliness of a BORROWED HOME! Feeling like a garden that was never fully grown! I was just a TROPHY BLACK CHILD on the shelf! Trying to find a piece of my own damn self! I ain't on the shelf no more. [Outro] [Beat fades back to just the acoustic guitar riff] Borrowed home. Never grown. (Spoken, gritty whisper) Eyepiercinglove. (Song ends)

Trophy Black Child (Borrowed Home)