[Intro – The Mafia Boss (spoken, cold and calm)] "So… you think words can save your life, huh? You stand in front of me — no gun, no crew, no prayer. Only your tongue. So talk, poet. Make me believe your life is worth the breath you’re wasting." [Verse – The Freestyle for Survival] I ain’t here with a crown, just the dirt of my past, Blood in my veins hums the sound of the blast. Every choice I made carved ghosts in my sleep, Now they whisper in my ear, sayin’ promises cheap. But I ain’t askin’ mercy — I’m offerin’ truth, Every scar on my soul is a map of my youth. You see pain made me fluent in the language of loss, While the reaper kept notes like a meticulous boss. I been walkin’ with shadows that taught me to kneel, But I rose with a hunger that concrete can’t kill. I ain’t holy, I ain’t clean, I ain’t playin’ pretend, But every sinner deserves one verse to defend. You built an empire with bullets and code, I built my verses on the side of that road. Where broken glass sparkles like uncut hope, And every rhyme’s a rope when you’re learning to cope. You want loyalty? I got that in scars. Got respect for the code, got love for the bars. I don’t beg for my life — I just prove that I breathe, That my story’s got weight, like the steel in your sleeve. If you shoot me now, my words still remain, They’ll echo through alleys, baptized in pain. But if you spare me — maybe, just maybe, You’ll hear your own ghost in the rhythm that made me. I’m not askin’ to rise, not askin’ to reign, Just a man who can rhyme through the sound of his chains. So here’s my life — no beat, no lies, no mask — Only truth, and a voice that dares to ask. ‘Cause maybe redemption don’t come from the cross, Maybe it comes from rappin’ for my Boss.
