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Yeah. I didn’t crawl out the dirt clean. I came out with mud on my boots and murder in the metaphors. Skarley. The Grind. [Verse 1] I was raised where the silence had teeth in it Where the kitchen light flickered like demons lived in it Where the rent got late and the fridge stayed thin So I learned how to hustle with a war in my skin I don’t pray for a pass, I pray pressure makes diamonds I don’t cry for the past, I make anthems from sirens I got ghosts in the backseat, God in the wiring Devil on hold while the bass keeps firing I been broke-broke, no joke, cold toast Same hoodie three days, still walked like a mob boss No gold chain, but my soul got a lock on Every damn dream that they said I should drop off I don’t need a cosign, I’m the whole damn contract Ink in my veins and a knife in the comeback Talk that slick, get folded by a punchline I make pain pay rent and I collect on time [Pre-Chorus] [choir hum, heartbeat kick] I came from the bottom where the angels don’t visit Where the good die quiet and the bad get wicked But I built me a ladder out of rage and rhythm Now the whole block hears when the grind starts ticking [Chorus] [huge drums, gang chant backing vocals] This is the grind, blood in the ink Hands on the wheel, no time to blink Mud on my boots, gold in my chest Came from the wreckage, still dressed for success Backpack full of hope, blacked-out soul Heart still warm but the world went cold Money on my mind, but I won’t sell mine I don’t bend, I don’t break — I grind [Verse 2] I got a wolf in my lungs and a snake in my rearview Smile real sweet but the scars say “fear who?” I don’t move loud unless the move got weight I don’t shake hands with a two-faced fake I’m gutter with grammar, savage with standards Turn a bad hand into backhanded banners Trailer-park thunder with a ballroom manner Half holy water, half gasoline hammer I been taxi-cab tired, long-road wired Red-eye dreams with a flat-phone fire Bills stack higher, still I aim higher If the roof won’t lift, I set flame to the wire Don’t talk to me soft like I’m built out of feathers I weathered bad weather in worse leather I stitched up my heart with a rusted-out measure Now every damn scar got a profit and ledger I’m not “lucky,” I’m lethal with lessons Made friends with rejection, shook hands with depression Turned no into notes, turned stress into sessions Now the beat bows down when I walk in confession [Chorus] [808s hit harder, choir rises] This is the grind, blood in the ink Hands on the wheel, no time to blink Mud on my boots, gold in my chest Came from the wreckage, still dressed for success Backpack full of hope, blacked-out soul Heart still warm but the world went cold Money on my mind, but I won’t sell mine I don’t bend, I don’t break — I grind [Bridge] [drums cut, eerie piano, whispered doubles] I hear voices in the walls saying, “Quit now.” I hear heaven in my chest saying, “Sit down? Nah, stand up, chin up, fists out.” I made a church out the place I got kicked out. For the broke ones, bent ones, burnt ones too For the lost ones trying to learn what’s true For the mums with the rent and the kids with the shoes For the dreamers still bleeding but refusing to lose This ain’t pretty. This ain’t polished. This is dirt under nails and a soul full of knowledge. This is “fuck what they said,” this is “watch what I do.” This is grind till the mirror says, “I’m proud of you.” [Verse 3] [double-time, bass distorted] Click-clack, pen snap, black bag, big plan Skarley got grit like a brick in a wristband No cap, no slack, broke past, rich stance Turned a dead-end road to a big-band kickstand I’m a backroad prophet with a city-girl sneer One eye on God, one eye on the mirror One hand on the wheel, one hand on the fear Then I steer through the smoke till the exit gets clear I don’t do revenge, I do results with receipts I don’t chase dogs, I let wolves off the leash I don’t need peace if it comes with defeat I need bass in the boot and my name in the street I been down in the gutter where the rats get brave Where they smile in your face then they spit on your grave But I rose with a rhythm that the dark couldn’t cage Now I make the whole room feel the turn of the page I’m a menace with meaning, a sinner still dreaming A villain to demons, a queen to the grieving A pistol of poetry, cocked and believing If I’m still breathing, bitch, I’m still achieving [Final Chorus] [full choir, stomps, guitar, 808s] This is the grind, blood in the ink Hands on the wheel, no time to blink Mud on my boots, gold in my chest Came from the wreckage, still dressed for success Backpack full of hope, blacked-out soul Heart still warm but the world went cold Money on my mind, but I won’t sell mine I don’t bend, I don’t break — I grind [Outro] [beat strips to stomp-clap, vinyl crackle] Stack that hope, stack that bread Stack every dream they thought was dead Stack that pain, stack that pride Stack every tear that refused to die stack it you fuck. Skarley out
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Yeah. I didn’t crawl out the dirt clean. I came out with mud on my boots and murder in the metaphors. Skarley. The Grind. [Verse 1] I was raised where the silence had teeth in it Where the kitchen light flickered like demons lived in it Where the rent got late and the fridge stayed thin So I learned how to hustle with a war in my skin I don’t pray for a pass, I pray pressure makes diamonds I don’t cry for the past, I make anthems from sirens I got ghosts in the backseat, God in the wiring Devil on hold while the bass keeps firing I been broke-broke, no joke, cold toast Same hoodie three days, still walked like a mob boss No gold chain, but my soul got a lock on Every damn dream that they said I should drop off I don’t need a cosign, I’m the whole damn contract Ink in my veins and a knife in the comeback Talk that slick, get folded by a punchline I make pain pay rent and I collect on time [Pre-Chorus] [choir hum, heartbeat kick] I came from the bottom where the angels don’t visit Where the good die quiet and the bad get wicked But I built me a ladder out of rage and rhythm Now the whole block hears when the grind starts ticking [Chorus] [huge drums, gang chant backing vocals] This is the grind, blood in the ink Hands on the wheel, no time to blink Mud on my boots, gold in my chest Came from the wreckage, still dressed for success Backpack full of hope, blacked-out soul Heart still warm but the world went cold Money on my mind, but I won’t sell mine I don’t bend, I don’t break — I grind [Verse 2] I got a wolf in my lungs and a snake in my rearview Smile real sweet but the scars say “fear who?” I don’t move loud unless the move got weight I don’t shake hands with a two-faced fake I’m gutter with grammar, savage with standards Turn a bad hand into backhanded banners Trailer-park thunder with a ballroom manner Half holy water, half gasoline hammer I been taxi-cab tired, long-road wired Red-eye dreams with a flat-phone fire Bills stack higher, still I aim higher If the roof won’t lift, I set flame to the wire Don’t talk to me soft like I’m built out of feathers I weathered bad weather in worse leather I stitched up my heart with a rusted-out measure Now every damn scar got a profit and ledger I’m not “lucky,” I’m lethal with lessons Made friends with rejection, shook hands with depression Turned no into notes, turned stress into sessions Now the beat bows down when I walk in confession [Chorus] [808s hit harder, choir rises] This is the grind, blood in the ink Hands on the wheel, no time to blink Mud on my boots, gold in my chest Came from the wreckage, still dressed for success Backpack full of hope, blacked-out soul Heart still warm but the world went cold Money on my mind, but I won’t sell mine I don’t bend, I don’t break — I grind [Bridge] [drums cut, eerie piano, whispered doubles] I hear voices in the walls saying, “Quit now.” I hear heaven in my chest saying, “Sit down? Nah, stand up, chin up, fists out.” I made a church out the place I got kicked out. For the broke ones, bent ones, burnt ones too For the lost ones trying to learn what’s true For the mums with the rent and the kids with the shoes For the dreamers still bleeding but refusing to lose This ain’t pretty. This ain’t polished. This is dirt under nails and a soul full of knowledge. This is “fuck what they said,” this is “watch what I do.” This is grind till the mirror says, “I’m proud of you.” [Verse 3] [double-time, bass distorted] Click-clack, pen snap, black bag, big plan Skarley got grit like a brick in a wristband No cap, no slack, broke past, rich stance Turned a dead-end road to a big-band kickstand I’m a backroad prophet with a city-girl sneer One eye on God, one eye on the mirror One hand on the wheel, one hand on the fear Then I steer through the smoke till the exit gets clear I don’t do revenge, I do results with receipts I don’t chase dogs, I let wolves off the leash I don’t need peace if it comes with defeat I need bass in the boot and my name in the street I been down in the gutter where the rats get brave Where they smile in your face then they spit on your grave But I rose with a rhythm that the dark couldn’t cage Now I make the whole room feel the turn of the page I’m a menace with meaning, a sinner still dreaming A villain to demons, a queen to the grieving A pistol of poetry, cocked and believing If I’m still breathing, bitch, I’m still achieving [Final Chorus] [full choir, stomps, guitar, 808s] This is the grind, blood in the ink Hands on the wheel, no time to blink Mud on my boots, gold in my chest Came from the wreckage, still dressed for success Backpack full of hope, blacked-out soul Heart still warm but the world went cold Money on my mind, but I won’t sell mine I don’t bend, I don’t break — I grind [Outro] [beat strips to stomp-clap, vinyl crackle] Stack that hope, stack that bread Stack every dream they thought was dead Stack that pain, stack that pride Stack every tear that refused to die stack it you fuck. Skarley out
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