I seen the crows circle over parking lots,
Black wings over busted shots.
Every prayer I made bounced off steel,
Every truth I told came back too real.
I ain’t scared of death, I been rehearsin’,
Every verse I drop, that’s one less version.
Every beat I kill, that’s one more ghost,
Every line I bleed, that’s one last boast.
Chrome hearts on the dash, rust on the rim,
Saints die broke while the lights stay dim.
I been tryin’ to outlive what I write,
But ink don’t sleep — it bite.

Crows and chrome, yeah, they both shine black,
Both know how to never come back.
One fly high, one ride slow,
One got wings, one got soul.
Yeah, crows and chrome, that’s how I roam,
Death on the line, life on loan.
Every road I pave, every truth I own,
All sound like crows and chrome.

Look — I been chasin’ peace through static hums,
Found it once, but the silence numb.
Still pray soft when the gears don’t grind,
Still find grace in the smoke I find.
Every scar I wear, that’s paid in proof,
Every lie I told, still hangin’ loose.
They say legacy’s light — I say it’s lead,
You carry too long, it sink your head.
I built my name on a cracked foundation,
Still rise slow through the noise and nation.
If the reaper pull up, let him knock —
I been ghost since I left that block.

Crows and chrome, yeah, they both shine black,
Both know how to never come back.
One fly high, one ride slow,
One got wings, one got soul.
Yeah, crows and chrome, that’s how I roam,
Death on the line, life on loan.
Every road I pave, every truth I own,
All sound like crows and chrome.

They don’t teach you how to fade with grace,
Just how to chase what you can’t replace.
You outgrow the hunger, not the ache,
You outlive the noise, but not the wake.
When the engines die and the echoes hum,
That’s when the real ghosts come.

Yeah, I wrote my name in exhaust and rain,
Burnt my fears just to keep the flame.
If art my sin, then bless that crime,
Every rhyme just buy me time.
Don’t cry when I stall or spin,
Just know I left chrome in the wind.
Every soul got a drive that fades,
But I got gas in the grave I made.

Crows and chrome, yeah, they both shine black,
Both know how to never come back.
One fly high, one ride slow,
One got wings, one got soul.
Yeah, crows and chrome, that’s how I roam,
Death on the line, life on loan.
Every road I pave, every truth I own,
All sound like crows and chrome.

Yeah…
If I don’t make it home,
let the words drive on their own.