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đŸ€– MĂșsica composta e produzida por InteligĂȘncia Artificial (Dexbom AI).

[Verse] Pages tattered, ink’s still blazing, Lost in lockers where dreams been grazin’. Lines like bullets, words heavy-loaded, Silent kings, in these rhymes I’m goaded. Sketched my pain in a cipher tight, Shadowed hours, writing through the night. Locked away but my voice breakin’ chains, From the cracks, hear the truth that remains. [Pre-Chorus] Every scribble got my story told, Burning fierce, watch this paper fold. From the margins, my soul unfolds, Raw and real, hotter than gold. [Chorus] In that worn notebook, I’m the king of this fight, Hidden in the locker but my verses take flight. Every word hits hard like a thunderous strike, Confident, ruthless—this is my life. Yeah, yeah, this is my life. [Verse] Scratches deep where the pressure built, Lost in echoes where my heart got spilt. No silver spoons, just a pen and grit, Each rhyme’s a battle, every line’s legit. Stacked against odds, but I’m breaking the mold, Voice cracked rough, but my story's sold. In this silence, hear the thunder roar, Locker’s hiding legends, I’m so much more. [Pre-Chorus] Every scribble got my story told, Burning fierce, watch this paper fold. From the margins, my soul unfolds, Raw and real, hotter than gold. [Chorus] In that worn notebook, I’m the king of this fight, Hidden in the locker but my verses take flight. Every word hits hard like a thunderous strike, Confident, ruthless—this is my life. Yeah, yeah, this is my life. [Bridge] Ink-stained fingers, scars in the rhyme, Locked up secrets, bind time to time. From the shadows, my truth is loud, Breaking chains, I’m standing proud. No more hiding, no more walls, These scratched pages hear my calls. Locker’s gone, but my voice remains, Forever alive in my battle stains. [Chorus] In that worn notebook, I’m the king of this fight, Hidden in the locker but my verses take flight. Every word hits hard like a thunderous strike, Confident, ruthless—this is my life. Yeah, yeah, this is my life. [Outro] Locked it up, but it set me free, Not just rhymes—it’s my legacy. Worn pages whisper, loud as a knife, This notebook’s more than words—it’s my life.

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