[Intro] Tell me what you call home. Tell me what you had to learn there. [Verse 1] Did I grow up in the hood, or just work there day by day? Is your block the same as mine, when the maps don't read that way? How many streets make up a hood? Who knows your name from door to door? Some call it green, some call it red, some can't see beyond the border. [Pre-Chorus] Not every corner carries danger, not every story ends the same. But if the only world you know keeps drawing circles round your name— [Chorus] Every hood is somebody's home, every block has a life of its own. If the walls decide what you can see, how do you learn what you could be? Wake up, look past the maze, there's more than the rules they made. The ground belongs to no one alone— every hood is somebody's home. [Verse 2] Some have never crossed the line where the old familiar streets give way. They learn to call the limits normal, learn there's nothing more to say. Then come the labels, come the claims: real one, OG, tough and proud. I'm an old man trying to live clean, I don't need street cred from a crowd. [Pre-Chorus] I know the lessons I was handed; I know what pressure makes you do. But being good is not surrender— there's still a way to make it through. [Chorus] Every hood is somebody's home, every block has a life of its own. If the walls decide what you can see, how do you learn what you could be? Wake up, look past the maze, there's more than the rules they made. The ground belongs to no one alone— every hood is somebody's home. [Bridge] What is a project, who placed the walls? Who drew the lines, who made the calls? A narrow maze, a piece of cheese, and hungry hands with no release. When all you see is take or lose, the maze has chosen what you'll choose. But there is life beyond that frame; you are not trapped inside its name. [Final Chorus] Every hood is somebody's home, every block has a life of its own. If the walls decide what you can see, look beyond them—there is room to be. Wake up, look past the maze, we can question the rules they made. The ground belongs to no one alone— every hood is somebody's home. [Outro] A place you call home. A life beyond the lines. Wake up, look outside.
