Lyrics

Lebanon blood.
Learned early—don’t cry, just watch.
They move loud… I move right.
I was six with a list, no lullabies,
Just silence, violence, and real-time spies.
Where bodies drop, and the kids don’t blink,
We clock moves—don’t flinch, don’t think.
Had a Glock in my bag like a juice box tucked,
Mama said, “Power don’t beg”—I was already cut.
Didn’t grow in no peace, I was trained in heat,
Learned how to play dead, but never miss a beat.
These kids cry now over IG posts,
I was clockin’ escape routes before I knew toast.
Smile sweet, hands clean, but I strike with grace—
That Lebanon love come wrapped in a straight face.

Lebanon blood, but I move like a ghost,
Face like peace, but I cut like the coast.
Pretty don’t beg—I finesse, then collect,
You feelin’ chosen? That’s just my effect.
Mama moved quiet, but the plays hit loud,
Taught me how to rule without standin’ out.
Built for the fire, but I look like gold—
They hand me respect ‘fore they even get told.

By eight, I was sittin’ in grown woman smoke,
Momma dropped secrets like I wasn’t a joke.
Told me his lies, his fists, his ways—
Asked if she should leave like I knew the plays.
I said “bounce,” and she listened—quiet storm,
Next day, pops said I was the reason she’s gone.
Tried to break me—called me cold, called me fake,
But I saw the game and the risk he’d take.
He played the tyrant—I played it still,
Couldn’t move him, but I bent mom’s will.
Watched her switch from broke to bait,
Used softness like steel—made ‘em all wait.
Had men on leash off a whisper and grin,
Gas tanks full, rent paid, no sin.
And me? I was the setup—never had to speak,
Just sat pretty while she flipped the weak.

Lebanon blood, but I move like a ghost,
Face like peace, but I cut like the coast.
Pretty don’t beg—I finesse, then collect,
You feelin’ chosen? That’s just my effect.
Mama moved quiet, but the plays hit loud,
Taught me how to rule without standin’ out.
Built for the fire, but I look like gold—
They hand me respect ‘fore they even get told.

Don’t ask how I made it—I ain’t get no guide,
I was six clockin’ patterns while the shells flew wide.
Mama played soft, but I caught her flame,
Watched her beg, then boss—ain’t forget a thing.
No bedtime, no break, just power on loop,
I learned how to win while they learned how to hoop.
By the time I hit here, I was already cold—
Pretty on the face, but my spirit too old.