Waiting For Rent

Yeah.

Turn the headphones up just a little bit.

Yeah, right there. Look...

Some stories don't start with a bang,

man. They just start with an alarm clock.

Alarm going off at six,

hit snooze for the third time Staring at the ceiling,

wondering where the time fly Another Tuesday,

same routine, same subway line Chasing after deadlines,

hoping that the stars align I check my phone screen,

text from mom: "You eating right?" Yeah,

ma, I'm good—working late into the night Typing out emails,

pushing pixels on a screen Trying to build a future out of

places I ain't seen Used to have big dreams of stadiums and

flashing lights Now I'm just trying to clear my credit card before

it bites The rent went up again,

landlord sliding notes under the door Walking past the reflection like,

"Is this what you built this for?" My friends from back home

got mortgages and minivans While I'm still out here sketching out these

half-baked master plans Trying to find balance in a city that don't

sleep Paying for my choices at a rate that's getting steep.

And the world keeps spinning while I'm stuck in place Just a

drop of water in a tidal wave Trying to keep my head

up when the rent is due

Looking for a real one when the fake is true Yeah,

we all just searching for a piece of peace Hoping that the

pressure and the debt will cease.

Saw an old face yesterday down by the grocery store Didn't even

recognize him, man, he looked so worn We used to cypher on

the block back in twenty-four Talkin' 'bout changing hip-hop,

changing the whole score Now he's got a clipboard,

talking 'bout a nine-to-five Said,

"Music's just a hobby,

man, you gotta stay alive." That hit a little different coming from

a brother's mouth Made me question every direction that I'm heading south

Is it dedication or just chasing after ghosts?

Holding onto passions that are burning me the most?

I walked home in the rain,

didn't even use my hood Letting water wash away the things I

misunderstood Got a notebook full of verses that'll never see a beat

Just a stack of paper secrets sitting underneath my seat But I

open up the cover anyway and grab a pen Because even when

it's heavy, I gotta write again.

Yeah.