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Lyrics
[Intro]
[low crowd murmur, distant gong]
Heavy breathin'
Gloves laced, mind racin'
Yeah
[Verse 1]
Born where the floor cold
Concrete confessions, my wardrobe
Hand-me-down pain and a torn soul
Jab scars on my heart, they war stories
Mama in the kitchen, late, countin' short money
Me, shadowboxin' demons in a one-room
Old heads sayin', "Lil man, you gon' bloom"
But I was in the hallway, learnin' what a loss do
Fists up
Only thing they ever taught school
Pressure on my chest like a front kick
Every day another test, same conflict
Had to learn to parry hate, never run quick
Turn fear into fuel for the long trip
[Chorus]
This that pressure point poetry
Hit ya once, make ya soul agree
Every scar, every bruise, every broken dream
Turn it all into gold for me
Yeah, this that pressure point poetry
Stand tall when they close on me
If the world swing wild, put a hold on me
I turn pain into prose, let it flow from me (uh)
[Verse 2]
Tournament of life, no bracket sheet
Just hunger in my eyes and a stack of fees
Landlord knockin' like a judge with a gavel
Every visit like a round I ain't asked to see
So I train in the dark, talk low, move smart
Count breaths, line steps like a flowchart
Every setback, set up for a cold start
Turn a cracked rib into renaissance art
I seen friends tap out for a quick win
Fold fast, blame fate, let the pitch spin
Me, I took hit after hit, let the chin grin
Bite down, taste blood, let the grit win
Ain't pretty but it's pure when the truth land
Hand wraps over wounds that the youth can't
Name yet, but they feel like a loose band
I'm the proof that a bruise make a new plan
[Chorus]
This that pressure point poetry
Hit ya once, make ya soul agree
Every scar, every bruise, every broken dream
Turn it all into gold for me
Yeah, this that pressure point poetry
Stand tall when they close on me
If the world swing wild, put a hold on me
I turn pain into prose, let it flow from me
[Bridge]
Heart beat like a drum in the late night (late night)
Crowd roar in my head when I stage fight (stage fight)
Ain't fear, it's the flame that I cage tight
Let it out, let it out, catch the same height
Every doubt that they threw, I'ma break right
Every "can't" that they chant, I'ma change like
Water in a glass under straight light
New shape, same soul, but the frame bright (yeah)
[Chorus]
This that pressure point poetry
Hit ya once, make ya soul agree
Every scar, every bruise, every broken dream
Turn it all into gold for me
Yeah, this that pressure point poetry
Stand tall when they close on me
If the world swing wild, put a hold on me
I turn pain into prose, let it flow from me (uh)
Details
GeneratedApr 3, 2026
Duration3:29
LanguageEnglish
Style
rap, Boom-bap east coast cypher energy over a cinematic, tense Bloodsport-style score: eerie choir pads and martial percussion under dusty chopped samples and a thick, swung drum groove. Male vocals, laid-back but heavy, with storytelling verses and internal rhyme schemes; chorus widens with low stacked harmonies and a simple, hypnotic hook. Bass sits warm and round, kicks hit like body shots, occasional vinyl crackle and crowd shouts tucked low in the mix.
Credits
Prompt byBoomStorm736
ModelAria v5.5
Prompt
Write a rap song with music from bloodsport movie that sounds like biggie smalls
