[Verse 1 Sunset on the stoop, smoke curls like cursive, Sneakers scuff these streets where the struggle surfaces. Pocket full of dreams, but the rent’s a burglar— Momma’s prayers still echo: “Boy, don’t let ‘em murder ya.” East Coast winters, cold hands, warm ambition, Rhymes scribbled on napkins, my soul’s ammunition. From Queensbridge shadows to Brooklyn’s bright lights, Every scar’s a chapter, every dawn a rewrite. [Chorus We rise slow, grind slower, heartbeats sync to the sample, Life’s a jazz loop—pain and joy, no example. Good livin’ ain’t given, it’s built in the scramble, Concrete lullabies, where the hustle and hope ramble. [Verse 2 Corner store prophets preach in loose change, Taxi horns harmonize with the subway’s refrain. Grandpop’s ghost in my Walkman, cracklin’ through the static, “Survive the madness, but keep your soul cinematic.” I wear my city like a leather jacket— Faded, torn at the edges, but still I rock it. Every “NO” just fuel, every “YES” a trophy, We bloom in the cracks, where the pavement’s lonely. [Bridge (Piano riff drips like August rain…) This life’s a chessboard, we pawns turned kings, Checkmate the doubt with the truth that we bring. The grind’s a love song, the struggle’s the chorus, From project windows, we watch the horizon for us. [Chorus We rise slow, grind slower, heartbeats sync to the sample, Life’s a jazz loop—pain and joy, no example. Good livin’ ain’t given, it’s built in the scramble, Concrete lullabies, where the hustle and hope ramble. [Outro (Beat drops to a muted trumpet & vinyl crackle…) Yeah… Aim’s to live smooth, even when the blocks rough, Find heaven in the little things—’cause the world’s enough. Head nod to the OGs, their wisdom in my stride,* East Coast heartbeat… forever in my side.*