[Intro – DJ / Pirate radio] Crshhh… clack… 94.7 on the cracked dial Bass sticking to the walls Same sun, same shadow… West side sermon. [Voice A – spoken, deep] At six-ten a.m., the city yawns wrong The sky looks good but nobody believes it A child cries between worn-out walls Born renting a future already late [Chorus – call] Where was he born? [Voice B – response] Where it’s tight. [Voice C – sung, slow funk] His mama folded her dreams in a shoebox Under the bed with bills and worn-out prayers She smiles so the day won’t get scared But her heart is already counting the wounds [Chorus – chanted] Another breath — [Voice A] In the noise Another fight — [Voice B] Before the night [Interlude – Talkbox / DJ] wouh-wouh Same sun… same shadow… Move… don’t ask. [Voice A – rap] Sidewalks teach you fast how to walk straight Eyes size you up before hello Out here the future gets negotiated by tone Or by a clenched fist when words run low Vacant lots turn into training grounds Lose or win, often both at once The elders say “you’ll be fine,” clean lies They survived — didn’t always live for real [Voice B – response] And school? [Voice A] Too far. [Voice B] And role models? [Voice A] On the run or in a display case. [Voice C – sung, disco-tinged melancholy] Neon lights put makeup on tired blocks It dances outside while it bleeds within We celebrate night to forget the shock Of waking up broke, going to sleep losing [Chorus – call & response, wider] Who feeds the kids? — The system? (no) Who makes the rules? — The system. Who pays the bill? — Always the same ones. [Bridge – Voice A spoken, echo] They say “stay clean” in a dirty world They say “be patient” when everything’s urgent They say “choose right” without giving the map Then act surprised when the street answers brutal [Voice A – rap, faster] At sixteen, respect turns into currency Pockets empty, risks overflowing One sideways look can cost a year Or a whole life for one moment too full The night teaches you to speak loud To mute fear with short decisions When you’re hungry, you don’t call it wrong You call it survival, even if it drags you [Voice B – response] Survive how? [Voice A] Badly. [Break – DJ, cut silence] Stop. Breathe. Beat comes back. [Voice C – sung, almost gospel] A mother waits behind a curtain too thin She knows this silence — it never lies Every minute is a discreet knife Every siren might be saying your name [Voice A – rap, dark] One wrong turn, one forced ignition Fear riding shotgun, night as alibi Sirens write the end of the verse On concrete that never applauds [Voice B – whispered] Face down… [Voice C] Again… [Chorus – slow, repetitive] Mama cries — again The block goes quiet — again The cameras roll — again Then forgetting — again [Outro – Voice A spoken] While the city cleans without looking Another cry is born at the other end of the set Same sun over the same mistakes Same long shadow on the same bodies [Final chorus – call & response] When does it start? — At birth. When does it end? — When we look straight at it. [DJ – long fade out] Crshhh… West coast lullaby… Same sun… Same shadow…
