Hard times in the hood

Hard times in the hood…

Every step was survival, every corner was a test.

Walkin’ home from school, fists tight, eyes wide,

Never knew if it’d be a fight or if I’d make it inside.

Mom thought I was studyin’, dad thought I was safe,

But the streets had a lesson carved in every face.

Those blocks didn’t raise no child, they forged a soldier in pain…

And when the sun went down, that soldier turned into a monster.

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Concrete cracked under my shoes, hambre deep in my chest,

Holes in my kicks, but I still walked with respect.

Books in my hands, but mis puños alive,

Every day was survival just to make it home alive.

Mom worked late shifts, dad broke from the grind,

They ain’t know I was brawlin’ just to keep my own line.

Every scar on my knuckles was a chapter in war,

Every bruise on my body proof I couldn’t ignore.

I saw vatos drop quick, bullets singin’ their names,

I saw mothers lose sons, nothin’ ever the same.

But I never bowed down, never begged, never ran,

Barrio life carved a killer out a broken young man.

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Nights colder than the morgue, no heat in the crib,

Lit a fuego in the alley just to prove that I lived.

Sombras whispered my name, rage carved in my chest,

I let the pain be my teacher, let the blood be the test.

Burned bodies in silence — not the flesh, but the trust,

Turned friends into ghosts, left loyalty dust.

Every knife in my back just reminded me strong,

That the barrio don’t forgive, it just drags you along.

But I clawed through the dirt, made it out of the grave,

Each victory survival, every win was a save.

I saw muerte in the mirror, grin sharp on its face,

But I spit in its shadow, stood tall in its place.

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Now I walk through la calle, heavy sangre in hand,

Not a king for the riches, I’m the king of the damned.

My trophies ain’t medals, they’re the lives that I took,

Every scream in the night is another line in my book.

I’ve burned homes to silence, seen familias erased,

Turned laughter into ashes, left bloodlines replaced.

I pour chelas for the muertos, carne sizzlin’ in flame,

But the hunger don’t fade, it just feeds on the pain.

I survived where they buried, I rose where they bled,

Soy el monstruo del barrio, cabrón born of the dead.

From the block to the grave, I remain who I am,

No compadre, no mercy, just the code that I stand.

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“I made it through the struggle.

I fought through the pain.

I lost brothers, I lost blood…

But I won my soul.

From the hood to the grave…

I remain.

And when the night calls,

the monster answers.”