When Im Gone

Backroad

Better Without You

Better Without You(prod.JP Beatz)

I_feel_like_that_not_tornado_but_the_thing_is_like_right_there_in_my_house_So_I_gotta_make_a_short_s

Good News

Head Shot / Gas In The Truck

Outlaw

Broken Kidd

[Verse 1]
Corner of 3rd and oblivion, streetlights flicker Morse
Dealer in the shadows, silhouette with no remorse
White gloves on the product, black heart in the brief
One gram of tomorrow, wrapped in cellophane grief
I trade the rearview for a rear-view mirror
Reflection selling futures—every line gets clearer
He says “no receipts,” I say “no regrets”
Pocket full of maybe, but the maybe’s in debt

[Pre-Chorus]
Clock hits twelve, city holds its breath
Every neon promise tastes like death
One tap on the glass, one nod in the dark
Midnight dealer—leave your mark

[Chorus]
Midnight dealer, neon in the palm
Trade my soul for the calm before the storm
One more gram of the glow, one more lie in the song
Midnight dealer—how’d we get this wrong?
Lights call my name, bass in my chest
Paradise in powder, but the powder’s a test
Midnight dealer, sell me the night
Till the dawn burns the deal out of sight

[Verse 2]
Back-alley cathedral, confession in the haze
He quotes me the scripture: “All debts must be paid”
I count out the memories—each bill is a scar
He smiles like a jackpot, hands me the star
Sirens in the distance, but the distance is kind
They’ll never catch the ghost I left behind
One bump and the city folds into a line
Midnight dealer—your clock, not mine

[Pre-Chorus]
Clock hits twelve, city holds its breath
Every neon promise tastes like death
One tap on the glass, one nod in the dark
Midnight dealer—leave your mark

[Chorus]
Midnight dealer, neon in the palm
Trade my soul for the calm before the storm
One more gram of the glow, one more lie in the song
Midnight dealer—how’d we get this wrong?
Lights call my name, bass in my chest
Paradise in powder, but the powder’s a test
Midnight dealer, sell me the night
Till the dawn burns the deal out of sight

[Bridge ]
Ayo—dealer in the trench, Saint Laurent cologne
Scales on the dash, every gram got a throne
I move like a phantom, but the phantom got receipts
Tax on your dreams, interest on the grief
You want the glow? Pay the toll in tears
I bag up your future, sell it back in years
Mom’s on the voicemail, cryin’ in the static
I mute it with a lighter—click, habit automatic
White glove, red ledger, blood on the profit
One line for the pain, one line for the prophet
City’s a casino, I’m the house, never lose
Midnight dealer—pick your poison, choose

Midnight dealer

Burnin' Hearts

I_feel_like_that_not_tornado_but_the_thing_is_like_right_there_in_my_house_So_I_gotta_make_a_short_s

lil bit ℂ𝕆𝕆𝕃 ⭐🙏

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