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Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Back row kid
Hood up, headphones
Lunch table laughs
I was eating alone
Cut class, cracked screen
Scrolling through fights
Best friend said
"We gon’ make it alright"
Then the DMs stopped
You switched up sides
High school halls
Felt smaller inside
Fake smiles, fake hugs
Everyone pressed
"Bro, you good?"
I just said, "Yes"
[Chorus]
Fuck rap, I’m just tryna stay alive
Clock in, clock out, then I drive
Empty in my chest, but I grind
Every long night asking, "Will it be my time?"
Fuck rap, I just wanna pay the rent
Make sure moms never worry ’bout a cent
If I blow, cool, if I don’t, fine
I’m still getting up, still getting mine
[Verse 2]
Cap and gown pics
We ain’t standin’ together
You was in the back row
Smilin’ like forever
I was front stage
Shakin’ with my letter
Thinkin’ ’bout the nights
We swore we’d do better
Now it’s ten-hour shifts
Cold drive home
Fast food wrapper
Passenger throne
Group chat dead
Phone on mute
Only thing talkin’
Is the rent that’s due
[Chorus]
Fuck rap, I’m just tryna stay alive
Clock in, clock out, then I drive
Empty in my chest, but I grind
Every long night asking, "Will it be my time?"
Fuck rap, I just wanna pay the rent
Make sure moms never worry ’bout a cent
If I blow, cool, if I don’t, fine
I’m still getting up, still getting mine
[Bridge]
I ain’t lookin’ for a deal
I’m lookin’ for a way out
I don’t wanna be a star
I just wanna see a payout
If these words hit
Then they hit, that’s that
I’m just talkin’ to myself
On this track
[Chorus]
Fuck rap, I’m just tryna stay alive
Clock in, clock out, then I drive
Empty in my chest, but I grind
Every long night asking, "Will it be my time?"
Fuck rap, I just wanna pay the rent
Make sure moms never worry ’bout a cent
If I blow, cool, if I don’t, fine
I’m still getting up, still getting mine
Details
GeneratedMar 8, 2026
Duration3:02
LanguageEnglish
Style
rap, Dark, moody trap with male vocals; muted keys and distant pads under a slow, knocking groove. Verses stay close and conversational, tucked into the pocket with subtle pitch-shifted ad-libs. Hook explodes with distorted 808s, layered gang vocals on the title phrase, and a gritty, shouted energy. Final chorus strips back to half-time drums and eerie textures, spotlighting the raw vocal., fake
Credits
Prompt by
suspect
suspectModelAria v5
Prompt
Through high school making friends dealing with stress fake people and losing a best friend Now life feels empty, but I’m grinding every day trying to make money and survive saying fuck, rap
