Lyrics
[Interlude]
[Verse 1]
Yeah, listen up, this the story of a kid,
Born in the struggle, where the streets never hid.
Black skin, hard knocks, life dealt the hand,
Raised by the asphalt, where the rules ain't bland.
Grew up in the shadows, where the corners were cold,
No silver spoons here, just stories untold.
Momma worked two jobs, but the bills never ceased,
Daddy's ghost lingered, a memory deceased.
[Chorus]
In the concrete jungle, he found his way,
Survival instincts sharp, night and day.
From the bottom to the top, he aimed to rise,
A diamond in the rough, with fire in his eyes.
[Verse 2]
School of hard knocks, where the lessons were raw,
Street code, loyalty, and the hunger for more.
He hustled on corners, dodged bullets and strife,
Dreams of escape, a better way of life.
But the game had its grip, like chains on his soul,
Friends turned foes, and the streets took their toll.
Yet he rhymed with the rhythm, penned pain into bars,
A poet of struggle, chasing distant stars.
[Chorus]
In the concrete jungle, he found his way,
Survival instincts sharp, night and day.
From the bottom to the top, he aimed to rise,
A diamond in the rough, with fire in his eyes.
[Bridge]
Late nights in the studio, beats on repeat,
Pouring out his heart, every struggle, every feat.
His voice echoed pain, but it carried a spark,
A beacon of hope in the pitch-black dark.
He rapped about freedom, justice, and strife,
A lyrical warrior, fighting for life.
The streets were his canvas, the mic his sword,
Bleeding ink on beats, his truth underscored.
[Chorus]
In the concrete jungle, he found his way,
Survival instincts sharp, night and day.
From the bottom to the top, he aimed to rise,
A diamond in the rough, with fire in his eyes.
[Outro]
[End]
