BLOOD IN THE INK — “FINAL TESTIMONY”

VERSE 7 — FINALE Testimony Now bring the choir back— I need drums like judgment day, I need every hand raised for the ones who found a way. From the factory floor to the corner-store clerk, From the nurse on a double to the father out of work. This for everybody grinding where the cameras never go, Building somebody else’s kingdom while their own dreams moving slow. They call working people ordinary—I reject that description, There’s a hero in the struggle when survival is the mission. I want land, I want knowledge, want the babies reading contracts, Want the dollar circulating where the people put their hearts at. Want the young ones knowing ownership is bigger than a necklace, Real power ain’t attention—real power is direction. Seven voices, one booth, every wound became a weapon, Every loss became a lesson, every prayer became a blessing. We ain’t begging for a seat—we brought the table through the entrance, Turned the pain into a record, turned the record to a message. So when that gospel sample rises, let the final bar breathe: I spent my whole life chasing something I already had in me. No crown made me a king, no crowd taught me belief— I walked through hell carrying heaven, now the whole world gets a piece.