Yeah. Turn the beat up. Don’t clean this shit up neither. LOVE. I came from piss hallways and burnt out lights, Where the fiends don’t sleep and the cops don’t write, Where a motherfucker get stabbed over words one night, Then the whole damn block act normal by daylight. I’m numb now. Heart got rust on it. Still smell death every time the bus roll in. Young boys wildin off pills and adrenaline, Talkin like killers cause pain made em arrogant. Bitch, I done seen too much foul shit, Crack smoke clouds and eviction announcements, Dudes get smoked then remembered through outfits, Fake ass love all over the comments. Man, fuck that. I say it direct. Half these tough dudes fold under pressure and stress. Half these fake prophets just hustlers in dress shirts, Sellin hope to the broke while collectin’ they checks first. I’m in the Cutlass bumpin old bass heavy shit, Ash on my hoodie, blunt smell dangerous, Mind full of rage and abandonment issues, Still rappin’ my lungs out like God finna listen... No safety on. No filter left. Whole hood cursed and addicted to stress. Everybody scream but nobody confess, We all got demons kickin holes in our chest. Middle fingers up through the smoke and sirens, Broken souls still somehow survivin. LOVE from the dirt where the hate get vibrant, And peace feel rare as a fuckin retirement. I know dudes with dead eyes and short fuses, Quick to throw hands, quicker makin excuses, Whole generation raised confused and ruthless, Fed bad news till destruction feel useless. Women fightin in the street by midnight, Neighbors yellin, baby cryin. porch light, One drunk motherfucker pukin by the stop sign, Another screamin....fuck life at the top of his lungs high. That’s the soundtrack. That’s the habitat. Trauma got recycled till the whole block adapted that. Kids hear gunshots and barely even react to that, Just put they headphones on and keep walking past. Shit cold. And every blunt I roll got memories in it, Every scar on my soul got a cemetery with it, Every verse I spit sound like fury and physics, Cause I learned real young this world don’t give a fuck who gifted. Still… I ain’t dead yet. That gotta mean something. So I spit like the rent due tomorrow morning, Like the lights got cut and the pipes ain’t workin, Like my mama still stressed and my cousin still hurtin, Like every damn prayer hit the ceiling uncertain. I’m raw because life was. Simple as that. No sugarcoat bars. No polished act. Just ashtray lungs, busted dreams, rage rap, Middle finger to the fake and the snakes in the back. LOVE.....
