“Irish Blood” ☘️

Title: “Irish Blood” ☘️⚔️ I ain’t lucky — I’m forged this way. Irish blood in a modern cage… Crossroads raised — ⸻ (Verse 1) Irish blood, no shamrocks — just hard knocks, Saints in my veins, but my fists like glocks. Faith in my chest, war in my talk, From the cobblestone dreams to that asphalt Born fighter, writer — call me Celtic scripture, Every verse a mural, I paint that picture. Soul scarred deep, but the ink divine, Every scar’s a psalm in a warrior’s rhyme. (Hook – Irish blood — we don’t fold, we flame, We fight through the hurt, we baptize pain. No luck, just grind — that’s how I reign, Cross on my chain, still break the chain! ☘️ Irish blood — that’s war in my genes, Gold in my soul, red in my dreams. From the streets to the steeple, I fight unseen, Saint with a sin streak, caught in between! ⚔️ Verse 2) I was raised on stories of famine and fight, Now I battle my past under city lights. Indiana cold — still Celtic inside, Got Dublin spirit with a Midwest pride. Wordplay wicked, my tongue like a dirk, Every verse hit like a priest gone berserk. Faith ain’t soft, it’s forged through hurt, God’s warrior — still covered in dirt. Old blood in a new world form. When I speak, that’s history reborn — My rage ain’t sin, it’s sacred reform. Ain’t luck… It’s legacy. Ain’t fear… It’s prophecy. Irish blood — That’s dynasty. ☘️