Lyrics

[Verse 1
Baggy dreams, pockets stuffed with ambition.
Started on a cracked stoop, flipping premonition.
Whistle of the kettle, pyrex in the kitchen,
Clouds rise heavy, that’s a dope boy’s incision.
Grams on the scale, dreams on the line,
Flipping hard, watching numbers climb,
Came from the struggle, now he’s redefining time,
Hustle so divine, like he’s built for the grind.

[Chorus]
Trap boy soaring, wings cut from the gutter.
Money like snow, watch the butter turn to flutter.
Hustle symphony, bass lines cutting clutter.
Crown heavy, came from hunger’s hunger.
Never had the silver spoon, just the iron to weather,
Now he’s stacking cheddar, no umbrella in the weather.

[Verse 2]
Early morning shifts, no coffee, just grind,
Second-hand Js, now his closet’s a shrine.
Kitchen alchemy, design got him blind,
Skeletons in the closet, but the ghost’s refined.
Block got a hold, but the plan’s crystal clear,
Haters on the sidelines, but he ain’t never fear.
From the bottom, but he moves like a pioneer,
Stacking bricks, dreaming bigger year by year.

[Bridge]
Parking lot flex, metal gleams in the night,
Shadows stretch long, dodging out of the light.
Suits and ties dream, but his zip’s locked tight,
From hand-me-downs to jaw-dropping heights.
Streets speak loud, and they echo with fight,
Had nothing to lose, now he’s chasing the flight.
Diamonds in his watch, but it’s the time that’s bright,
Came from the dark, but he’s blinding the sight.

[Verse 3]
OGs salute while the youngins still scheming,
Boulevard dreams, gave the block its meaning.
From a zip to a brick, life’s game, he’s redeeming.
Vision so wide, got the whole squad believing.
Hustled through the winter, now he’s summer breezing,
Taught himself the code, now the money’s never freezing.
Legacy in motion, the future’s what he’s seizing,
Every step calculated, never caught up in the season.

[Chorus]
Trap boy soaring, wings cut from the gutter.
Money like snow, watch the butter turn to flutter.
Hustle symphony, bass lines cutting clutter.
Crown heavy, came from hunger’s hunger.
Never had the silver spoon, just the iron to weather,
Now he’s stacking cheddar, no umbrella in the weather.