Tommy sings for supper

Lyrics

(Tommy sings for supper—but it’s deeper than that.
This is a story about survival, sound, and standing tall with nothing but your voice.)
---
[Chorus]
Tommy Tucka never had much,
Voice was his weapon, pain was his crutch.
Sang for bread, not for clout or luck,
Notes from the belly, they all felt stuck.
Man made melodies out of mess,
Spit real pain through holes in his chest.
Didn’t wear jewels, didn’t flex no sets,
But the whole block listened when he took breath.
---
[Verse 1]
Tommy ain’t trap, Tommy don’t bang,
Tommy had songs, but no real fam.
One spoon, one chair, one cold flat,
But when he sang, even bricks clapped back.
Every note held pain from the night,
Every bar was a fight for light.
People said “soft,” but they ain’t know the grind—
He ain’t rap loud, but his truth hit right.
Could’ve gone roads, could’ve chose quick bread,
But he knew music was his only thread.
Stayed in tune while his boys got fed,
Voice cracked once, but he never said “dead.”
---
[Chorus]
Tommy Tucka never had much,
Voice was his weapon, pain was his crutch.
Sang for bread, not for clout or luck,
Notes from the belly, they all felt stuck.
Man made melodies out of mess,
Spit real pain through holes in his chest.
Didn’t wear jewels, didn’t flex no sets,
But the whole block listened when he took breath.
---
[Verse 2]
Label said no, streets said “Why sing?”
Tommy just hummed with a crown unseen.
Put truth on beats like ink on skin,
Carved out purpose through loss and sin.
Got booked once for a block-side set,
Grew his name, but he still felt debt.
Gave his last to a youth with less,
Said “If you got sound, then protect that chest.”
He ain’t flash, but he’s still got name,
Still walk ends with the hunger pain.
Tommy sang through the thunder and rain,
‘Cause some stories don’t need to explain.
---
[Chorus]
Tommy Tucka never had much,
Voice was his weapon, pain was his crutch.
Sang for bread, not for clout or luck,
Notes from the belly, they all felt stuck.
Man made melodies out of mess,
Spit real pain through holes in his chest.
Didn’t wear jewels, didn’t flex no sets,
But the whole block listened when he took breath.
---
[Outro]
Tommy ain’t rich. Tommy ain’t gone.
Tommy still sings when the nights feel long.
Not every voice gets stage or light—
But his still echoes in the darkest fight.