No dreams left on snooze.
We up now.

I been hungry since my first breath,
Learned quick — mercy don’t cut debt.
Built these bars from ash and doubt,
Turned silence into word of mouth.
I don’t chase ghosts, I bury ‘em proper,
My peace wear steel, my faith got armor.
Every “no” they threw, I caught like sparks,
Lit my fire from the words they barked.
They say time heals — nah, time reveals,
Who fake, who fade, who bleed, who kneels.
I’m still here, ink-stained and sane,
Every loss just fuel for the vein.

Every night I spent prayin’ for change,
Woke up broke but my mind deranged.
Dreams too loud, I can’t mute ‘em,
Pain too deep, I rap right through ‘em.
They don’t want truth, they want comfort wrapped,
But I ain’t built soft, I was born with slap.
Talk purpose like it pay your bills —
I live mine, that’s why it kills.
Ain’t no shortcuts to holy ground,
You crawl, you bleed, you earn that sound.
I talk pain fluent, I write in scars,
God bless the ones who built their bars.

See, I don’t need your nod, your post, your praise,
I wrote my worth in the broke-ass days.
Ain’t no fame that can buy my grit,
I seen hell and I rhymed through it.
They say saints sleep — nah, we grind through guilt,
Turn concrete dreams into towers built.
I’m proof that dirt still grow divine,
Proof that pain still polish shine.
My soul on layaway, still owe God rent,
But I pay that shit with every intent.
You talk hustle — I talk history,
Everything I drop got mystery.
Lines too clean for a soul this rough,
Bars too deep for the charts they bluff.

Look, I’m past the point of rap for sport,
This pen my passport, my last resort.
Every metaphor breathe, every beat still fight,
I’m the sermon in the smoke, the cross in the light.
I don’t beg for grace, I bleed it,
Don’t follow faith, I lead it.
If pain’s the price, then I overpaid,
Still rich in the truth I made.
They count streams — I count scars,
They chase fame — I chase stars.
Not the ones up top, the ones below,
The ones like me who still won’t fold.

This for the saints who sin but show,
Who walk through hell but still glow slow.
For the builders, dreamers, real believers,
Concrete preachers, heavy sleepers.
I ain’t done, I just grew quiet,
Learned that truth don’t need no riot.
You can’t kill what already burned,
You can’t teach what already learned.
I’m the echo they hear when they talk fake gods,
The crack in the halo, the lightning rod.
No gate can block a mind that woke,
No chain can hold a voice that spoke.
So when I go, don’t mourn — rebuild,
I left my soul in every field.
Every beat I broke, every verse I bled,
Just proof the saints don’t sleep — they spread.

You can rest when you rot.
‘Til then — stay holy in the hustle.