[Verse 1]

I woke with a war drum lodged in my lungs, thunder in my teeth,

Iron in my bloodline, rubble in my reach.

World tried to teach me silence chalk outline speech,

But I sharpened every no into a blade that bleeds.

Raised on eviction notices and dime-store halos,

Scrolling through a feed that feeds on faint souls.

Algorithms selling me a rented peace in pesos,

While the rent steals breath from a chest that says “go.”

I’ve swallowed too many nights like a fistful of nails,

Prayed to a sky that was busy sending emails.

Therapy in alleys, church in a bassline

Every bruise on my timeline turned into a tagline.

I don’t do pretty lies or sugarcoat the breaking;

If hope’s a house, it’s framed with bones that kept shaking.

I’m not a product I'm a problem for your pipelines,

A lighthouse in a ribcage, guiding through the white noise.

Taught to love the mirror till the mirror grew a mouth

It bit back, said “prove it,” so I bled my way south

Through the belly of the beast where the debt collectors feast,

And the devil wears a badge with a quarterly increase.

But hear me: I am furnace, not the ashes you predicted,

Turn panic into granite, then I wear it like a crown;

Turn static into planets watch me render whole towns.

For the kid who tastes metal every time the panic hits,

For the mom with three jobs jugglin’ boxes of the myth,

For my brothers on the line makin’ sparks out of rent,

For the sisters called “too loud” who are thunder by intent

We don’t bow to broken gods or barcodes at the gate,

We write freedom on our scars with a scream that doesn’t wait.

I stitch tomorrow to today with filament of spine,

And I’ll sing until the darkness coughs the light back from my lines.

If pain is just a teacher, then grade me on the climb;

I’m the bridge between the riff and every syllable that rhymes.

So when the world says hush, I bite the muzzle off the night,

Spit bolts, bend bars, and make the microphone ignite.

No crowns from kings who never fed the hungry in their courts

I crown the ones who carried all our names through every storm.

This is marrow, this is metal, this is rap with ratchets turned

Where the beat is forged in fire and the truth will not get burned.

[Verse 2]

Bass like a jackhammer rattlin’ my ribs, I breathe the quake,

808s bulldoze the grief, I pave a brighter lane.

I learned to braid my fear into a cable I can climb,

Turned every sleepless night into a metronome of spine.

Credit scores like collars? I cut the barcode from my throat;

They tried to lease my future nah, I bought back every note.

Rent became religion, but the tithe was all my pain,

So I baptized in the feedback, rose electric in the rain.

I came from “eat the week or get eaten by the week,”

Now I season every wound with grit and call it what it is: heat.

If trauma is a tyrant, I beheaded that regime,

Stitched my name across the banner where they penciled in “deceased.”

We don’t pray to crooked ladders; we reforge the rungs we need,

Trade their “please” for pressure, press the pressure into freed.

I keep marching through the static with a choir made of scars,

Every “no” became percussion, now my yes is made of bars.

Open up the pit inside the system watch me split it clean,

Half-time heartbeat, drop like a guillotine.

Guitars growl low, but the RAP stays king,

I’m the reason that the kick drum makes the steel beams sing.

I spit for kids who sharpen pencils into spears of light,

For mothers ghosting hunger with a double shift at night,

For fathers learning softness after decades flexing fight,

For every soul who thought they broke nah, you’re tempering your might.

I don’t bargain with the darkness; I invoice it for rent,

Charge interest on the tears that tried to drown my testament.

If silence is a coffin, I’m a hammer in the lid,

If living is a gamble, I’m the house that never blinks.

I drag tomorrow through the doorframe of this minute till it fits,

Carve a tunnel with my verses, flood it gold with every hit.

When they say the world is dying, I reply: “then feed it truth,”

Let the sub-bass be defibrillators pounding back its proof.

So line the doubts up clack, clack watch me lean and let ’em fall,

I turn panic into granite, stack it tall until it’s walls.

Hear the low-end like a sermon while the serpent fakes a hiss

I lace mercy in my metal, make the rage learn how to lift.