Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Red dirt on my Nikes Yellow tape where the kids used to play Mama say pray ‘fore I leave ‘Cause she know half my dawgs in the grave Route 10, blue lights in the rearview Judge lookin’ at my skin like a preview Twelve ask questions I ain’t never gon’ answer I learned math from a scale, not a teacher Section 8 stove heatin’ up ramen But the plug got a play, so I’m joggin’ Backroad, backwood, hoodie in August Whole block hot and the news keep talkin’ [Chorus] We just trappin’ in Baton Rouge Tryna duck that headline news Every night somebody lose But I can’t let ‘em write my tomb I’m just trappin’ in Baton Rouge (yeah) Tryna make it out this zoo Bills due, rent past due What you expect a youngin’ to do? [Verse 2] Grandma house smell like bleach and Black&Milds Bible on the table but the steel close by Shotgun sound, everybody hit the ground Then we right back up, that’s a regular night High school hallway full of RIP shirts Candles on the curb, mama holdin’ in hurt Preacher say “change,” but the lights might cut So I slip one pack in my left jean cuff Wrong side of the levee get heavy Lil bro out here tote big weapons Ain’t proud of the path but it’s all that we had Either clock in or clock in the bag [Chorus] We just trappin’ in Baton Rouge Tryna duck that headline news Every night somebody lose But I can’t let ‘em write my tomb I’m just trappin’ in Baton Rouge (woah) Tryna make it out this zoo Bills due, rent past due What you expect a youngin’ to do? [Bridge] Front porch talk, “who got hit?” Another name on a block we miss If this life just pickin’ who quit I’ma grip this dream, not slip ‘Cause I seen chains on my cousin wrists Seen white sheets, seen body lists If the world don’t care ‘bout kids like this Then the block my job ‘til I flip that script [Chorus] We just trappin’ in Baton Rouge Tryna duck that headline news Every night somebody lose But I can’t let ‘em write my tomb I’m just trappin’ in Baton Rouge (yeah) Tryna make it out this zoo If they won’t give us nothin’ new We gon’ grind ‘til we break on through
Tags
rap, Gritty Southern trap beat with dark, swampy synth pads and sliding bass; male vocals spitting raw, close-mic verses. Hook widens with stacked chants and pitched-down ad-libs, snare rolls and hi-hat triplets driving the urgency. Second half brings in eerie bell melody and subtle choir stabs, energy rising into a defiant, street-anthem climax.
Duration
2:21
Instrumental
No
Created
3/21/2026