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letra de i can't pray if i'm countin' change - kxllinme

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[verse 1]

have you ever had a lady say she wanna k!ll her dad
within sixty seconds of askin’ her, “you need a bag?”
have you ever seen a fiend raise an electric scooter like it’s war
eyes wide, veins dancin’, tryna swing it through the door?

have you ever cleaned blood off a tile at two
and the dude that bled came back like, “ayo, lemme get two?”
this that graveyard gospel, i don’t pray, i scan
seen a man trade his ebt for fetty, d-mn

they say i’m loved on the block — man, f-ck that noise
thеy just smile for the swishers, i ain’t onе of they boys
shorty walk in with a knife in her bra
ask for “foil, straw, and a lighter” like this sh-t ain’t bizarre

i’m in a cage with the cash, cigarettes, and trauma
and every “what’s up, bro” might come with some drama

[chorus]

graveyard work, i don’t sleep, i scan
fiends talk god with a torch in hand
“you good, bro?” — that’s a loaded phrase
seen love, seen death in a microwave
bag the pain with the backwoods packs
life cost more than the sh-t they tax
if you know, then you know — i ain’t gotta explain
just count the scars left in the windowpane

[verse 2]

my mental state? been cracked since teens
learned to float through the static between
back when the room was a lab for the lost
fan on low, chasin’ peace at a cost

tried playin’ god with a neon soul
thought i was fine ’til the ceiling got cold
some nights hit different — i’d just sit and stare
we ain’t drifted, just… turned down the sound

same blood, but silence got passed around
i ain’t judge — i just knew the signs
and stepped away ’fore they crossed my spine
now i watch the door when the sky turns grey

and i count the steps of the ones who stay
i don’t cry no more, just observe and file
every broken soul that passes in style
you ever seen someone laugh with blood on their t–th?
then wipe the floor clean so the vibe stay sweet?
you ever ring up snacks while someone od’s?
and know you still gotta balance the drawer with ease?

they say i’m strong — nah, i just shut off the light
clock in, clock out, get numb to the fight
i learned to live where the ugly feels normal
where peace wears gloves and routine is formal

there’s comfort in knowing this mess repeats
in the hum of the fridge and the sound of defeat
so i stock up the shelves while the madness grows
and i smile like a vet in a world that’s froze

[chorus]

graveyard work, i don’t sleep, i scan
fiends talk god with a torch in hand
“you good, bro?” — that’s a loaded phrase
seen love, seen death in a microwave

bag the pain with the backwoods packs
life cost more than the sh-t they tax
if you know, then you know — i ain’t gotta explain
just count the scars left in the windowpane
[verse 3]

i don’t pray no more — i mutter to rot
ask the ceiling cam, “you still on the clock?”
eyes dry, jaw locked, voice gone thin
ain’t felt like a person since i don’t know when

i don’t feel joy, just flinch and adapt
smile carved crooked like a panic attack
clock hands twitch — shift never ends
just fiends, fake love, and invisible friends

keep your head down, eyes wide as h-ll
watch the junkies, the fiends, the ones goin’ to h-ll
blade in your pocket, don’t flash that sh-t
silent threats k!ll faster than any hit

don’t trust no b-tch with a smile so fake
they’ll stab you quick, then laugh when you break
count every f-cking dime, don’t let sh-t slide
in this f-cked-up game, trust’s a suicide

talk soft, move cold, don’t stir the sh-t
this corner’s a warzone — watch your back quick
they come for a fight, but i’m colder than ice
been f-cked, been bruised — paid a heavy price

trust’ll get you gutted behind the door
they’ll dap you up, then leave you on the floor
i’ve seen kind eyes go stone in a blink
turn warm hands cold when the high starts to sink

teach the rookies how to fake the grin
bury the pain deep, don’t let it win
this ain’t no job — it’s a godd-mn grind
stay sharp, stay silent, or get left behind

keep count of your drawer, your steps, your fear
keep eyes on the glass and one on the mirror
i’ve been robbed, betrayed, loved, and erased
still stockin’ shelves like i’m savin’ face

i mop up blood like it ain’t no thing
say “have a good night” with a throat that stings
this corner’s a grave with a register hum
and i still show up like the reaper won’t come

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