[Intro] (low piano stab, vinyl crackle, soft inhale) Mirror, mirror… who the fuck is that? Same girl who used to clock in with a name tag. [Chorus] Started from the bottom, no fairy-tale shit, Cashier smile, waitress tips, all the odd-job grit. Rags on my back, no glass slipper fit, Self construct, bitch — I built this brick by brick. Ain’t no prince comin’, ain’t no rescue call, Just me and the grind when the last check was small. Self-made, self-paid, no cosign attached, I came from the rags… now watch the whole city adapt. [Verse 1] Fluorescent lights humming, register beeping slow, Smell of burnt coffee and the mop water glow. Name tag crooked, feet swollen in them cheap black shoes, Counting singles in the break room, praying they go through. “Have a nice day” through gritted teeth and fake-ass cheer, While the tip jar mocked me — empty as my bank account fear. Night shift waitress, grease under my nails, Scent of fryer oil clinging to my ponytail. Odd jobs stacked like unpaid bills on the counter, Babysitting, stocking shelves, whatever paid the hour. No Cinderella story, no pumpkin, no ball, Just the sound of my own voice saying “I want it all.” [Chorus] Started from the bottom, no fairy-tale shit, Cashier smile, waitress tips, all the odd-job grit. Rags on my back, no glass slipper fit, Self construct, bitch — I built this brick by brick. Ain’t no prince comin’, ain’t no rescue call, Just me and the grind when the last check was small. Self-made, self-paid, no cosign attached, I came from the rags… now watch the whole city adapt. [Verse 2] Now the leather seats warm from the summer night heat, Same hands that wiped tables now count the receipt. Touch the steering wheel — still feel the old calluses, But the rearview shows a woman who don’t settle for less. Used to smell like bleach and last night’s specials, Now it’s perfume and ambition when I step through the threshold. They want the soft version, the grateful little girl, I give ’em the real one — the one who burned the whole world Just to rebuild it exact how I needed it to look. No handouts, no shortcuts, just the pages in my book. Every “yes, ma’am,” every double shift, every “I’m fine,” Turned into fuel… now the whole damn skyline is mine. [Bridge] (beat strips down — 808 heartbeat + distant city noise) Me versus me — only war I respect. Every scar is a stanza, every loss a couplet. If I fall, I fall solo… no safety-net myth. Self construct, motherfucker… deal with it. [Final Chorus – fuller, more melodic] Started from the bottom, no fairy-tale shit, Cashier smile, waitress tips, all the odd-job grit. Rags on my back, no glass slipper fit, Self construct, bitch — I built this brick by brick. Ain’t no prince comin’, ain’t no rescue call, Just me and the grind when the last check was small. Self-made, self-paid, no cosign attached, I came from the rags… now watch the whole city adapt. [Outro] (fade with ad-libs) Self construct… No Cinderella… Just me. (vinyl slowdown)
