Rhythm #2. Carry the Beat Home

Melodic hip-hop/R&B, 96 BPM, dusty piano, live bass, crisp drums, male rap, female sung hook

[Intro]
The station sign got smaller in the rain,
But I could hear our kitchen windowpane.

[Verse 1]
I left with two shirts and a dented case,
A cheap little notebook and my mama's faith.
My brother said the big town talks too fast,
Don't learn to run so hard you forget the past.
The bus rolled past the corner where we played,
Past the little court where our best plans got made.
I had a pocket full of almost-nothing then,
And a whole neighborhood saying, Go again.

[Pre-Chorus]
Now the streets may have a different name,
But the rhythm in my chest remains.
When the lights get bright and I feel alone,
I close my eyes and take that sound back home.

[Chorus]
I carry the beat home, wherever I go,
Every hand that held me in the undertow.
Every porch light, every borrowed ride,
Every voice that said, Keep your head up high.
Let the whole world hear what we built from small,
There was room for me because you made a wall fall.
If my name gets loud, let the truth be known:
I never made this music on my own.

[Instrumental Break — 8–16 bars]

[Verse 2]
First check came through, I bought my daddy tires,
Called my auntie just to say she inspired.
An old friend told me, Man, your song got played,
At the same little place where we used to wait.
Not every street was kind, not every door stayed wide,
But I learned which people always stood beside.
Some nights I miss the smell of summer rain,
On the painted steps of that crooked lane.

[Bridge]
Maybe home is not a spot on a map,
Maybe it's the hands that never held us back.
I'm not going backward when I turn around,
I'm bringing all that love into a bigger sound.

[Final Chorus]
I carry the beat home, wherever I go,
Every hand that held me in the undertow.
Every porch light, every borrowed ride,
Every voice that said, Keep your head up high.
Let the whole world hear what we built from small,
There was room for me because you made a wall fall.
If my name gets loud, let the truth be known:
I never made this music on my own.

[Outro]
The bus ride ended years ago,
The beat's still coming with me home.

2067/7500

[Intro] The station sign got smaller in the rain, But I could hear our kitchen windowpane. [Verse 1] I left with two shirts and a dented case, A cheap little notebook and my mama's faith. My brother said the big town talks too fast, Don't learn to run so hard you forget the past. The bus rolled past the corner where we played, Past the little court where our best plans got made. I had a pocket full of almost-nothing then, And a whole neighborhood saying, Go again. [Pre-Chorus] Now the streets may have a different name, But the rhythm in my chest remains. When the lights get bright and I feel alone, I close my eyes and take that sound back home. [Chorus] I carry the beat home, wherever I go, Every hand that held me in the undertow. Every porch light, every borrowed ride, Every voice that said, Keep your head up high. Let the whole world hear what we built from small, There was room for me because you made a wall fall. If my name gets loud, let the truth be known: I never made this music on my own. [Instrumental Break — 8–16 bars] [Verse 2] First check came through, I bought my daddy tires, Called my auntie just to say she inspired. An old friend told me, Man, your song got played, At the same little place where we used to wait. Not every street was kind, not every door stayed wide, But I learned which people always stood beside. Some nights I miss the smell of summer rain, On the painted steps of that crooked lane. [Bridge] Maybe home is not a spot on a map, Maybe it's the hands that never held us back. I'm not going backward when I turn around, I'm bringing all that love into a bigger sound. [Final Chorus] I carry the beat home, wherever I go, Every hand that held me in the undertow. Every porch light, every borrowed ride, Every voice that said, Keep your head up high. Let the whole world hear what we built from small, There was room for me because you made a wall fall. If my name gets loud, let the truth be known: I never made this music on my own. [Outro] The bus ride ended years ago, The beat's still coming with me home.

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