[Verse 1] I came in calm with a split lip smile, whole room froze when I stepped in style. Black cab rain on a cracked front pane, mum said, "Move smart, don’t feed that game." I kept my name in a steel-front vault, every old wound had a shape, a fault. They want the tale, but they want it thin, I got a whole life hidden under my skin. Back room talk with the kettle low, one wrong glance and the whole thing slow. I seen boys fold for a borrowed throne, seen queens sit tall on a borrowed bone. I don’t beg, I don’t bend, I don’t plead, I learned young what the vultures need. They want fresh meat, they want clean blood, I came up hard in the cold back mud. My voice stay sharp when the world get rude, I sing like a knife in a painted mood. High note cut through the basement air, cold as a prayer from a chandelier. They said I’d break where the windows shook, I just turned pain into another look. Two-step pace on a one-way road, head held high in a heavy coat. [Verse 2] Now it’s late-night calls from a number I saved, same old face with a brand new grave. Same old chat about who did who, who got booked and who slid through. I told them, "Watch me," then I did exactly that, clean little exit, no looking back. Left that edge with a sweet cold grin, came back dressed in a better skin. Got lace on the cuff and grit in the throat, every line I drop got a hidden note. Talk too slick and the room go still, I’m the hush in the hall, I’m the sharp-edged chill. Mama raised me on a kettle and fire, two hard hands and a deep desire. Don’t trust charm when it shines too quick, don’t trust a smile that can’t stay thick. So I move like water in a broken lane, soft on the tongue but I carry the strain. One step past where the weak hearts stop, I lace my truth with a clean-cut drop. They try to box me, frame me, name me, same old tricks never really tame me. I got heels for the dirt, and steel in the air, and a whole church worth of thunder in my stare. [Bridge] Ooh, hear me rise from the ash to the crown Ooh, hear me rise when the whole world bows down I wear the bruise like silk on skin, I make the dark look good within. If they want war, then I’ll sing through smoke, one long note and the whole room broke. [Verse 3] I don’t need luck, I need clear sight, I need one clean path through a bitter night. Need less noise and more truth in sight, less fake love and more raw twilight. I know the type with the polished talk, all sweet teeth till you meet that walk. I know the type with the saint-like grin, sliding through with a blade in the hymn. But I came out loud from a quiet place, with a rough little tear in a pretty face. Now I stand where the cold winds hit, and I don’t flinch when the stories spit. Every scar got a silk-line frame, every loss turned into a better name. I can turn grief into gold in my lungs, turn a dead hush into palace drums. So if you hear my shadow down the hall, that’s just me refusing to fall. I got a whole storm packed in my chest, and I sing like I mean it when they test my rest.
