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Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Syrup on toast, cracked plate on the counter
Hand-me-down shoes, toes turnin’ to powder
Mama workin’ doubles, back bent like a question
Fridge light starin’ like, "you learned your lesson?"
Cold nights, coat on, sleep in my sweater
School lunch ticket, hope day gets better
Kids talk brands, I talk rent due
Pocket full of lint, what that pressure gon’ do
[Chorus]
I ain’t have much but I made it stretch
Raised myself with this weight on my neck
Turned them late-night tears to a battle cry
If nobody had me, then I had to try
I ain’t have much but I made it mine
Built my own name out of overtime
From the floor of that room where the paint all peeled
Had to be my own father, yeah, I raised myself for real
[Verse 2]
Learned how to cook from the back of the box
Learned how to fight from the boys on the block
Learned how to lie, "yeah, we eatin’, we fine"
Then go home, split rice, count every grain, every line
Church shoes shined, heart still stained
Fist full of change, whole world changed
Teacher say, "dream," I just dreamt ‘bout heat
Not seein’ my breath when I go to sleep
Now I wipe my own blood off the concrete stories
Stitched every scar into homemade glory
Told that mirror, "you the one, don’t hide"
If love ain’t around, then it’s comin’ from inside
[Chorus]
[Bridge]
[low vocal register]
Walked myself home when the street got rough
Pat my own back when the times got tough
Tucked myself in when the dark crept close
Whispered, "you enough," ‘cause I needed that most
[Chorus]
Details
GeneratedJan 4, 2026
Duration2:25
LanguageNL
Style
rap, Gritty boom-bap with a dusty bassline and crisp snares, midtempo head-nod groove. Verses sit upfront with tight, conversational male vocals; subtle chopped vocal samples and muted keys add mood between lines. Hook explodes with doubled lead, gang shouts, and a thicker low end. Mix keeps it raw and intimate, like a late-night confessional in a small room.
Credits
Prompt byDigitalWave866
ModelAria v5
Prompt
Rap song bout growing up poor and raising myself, rap
