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lirik lagu arpit golani & ryllin x - street scriptures

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[verse 1]
yo, these streets don’t talk, they scream in the silence
bloodstains and sirens, homes turned into islands
mothers praying daily for sons that never listen
pops been gone, he’s either dead or in prison
corners preach sermons, sermons from the devil
shovels dig graves while we’re hustling for levels
bullets don’t miss, names written on the wind
caskets stay open, the cycle won’t end
bags full of dreams crushed in the grind
fiends on the corner, they’re chasing rewind
god’s looking down, but he don’t intervene
’cause this h~llhole’s been home since we were sixteen

[chorus]
street scriptures written in pain and ambition
lost souls trapped in the devil’s kitchen
life is a gamble; survival’s the mission
pray you don’t die while you chase that vision

[verse 2]
bodies drop like beats in this symphony of war
every block’s a battleground, blood on the floor
no saints, just sinners, with triggers to pull
streetlight confessions in a world so cruel
homies turn judas for crumbs and a deal
loyalty’s a mirage when survival’s real
hustle till the grave, no retirement here
either die a legend or vanish in fear
kids grow up fast with no lullabies
only lull them to sleep when a hollow flies
tales of the streets inked in tattoos and scars
dreams eclipsed by the night, no wish on a star
[chorus]
street scriptures written in pain and ambition
lost souls trapped in the devil’s kitchen
life is a gamble; survival’s the mission
pray you don’t die while you chase that vision

[verse 3]
i seen angels turn demons, halos burnt black
crack pipes replace dreams; there’s no turning back
the preacher don’t visit, he’s scared of the dark
where every man’s shadow hides a k!ller’s heart
where love’s currency, spent in advance
where one wrong glance means your last chance
we pen our eulogies in spray~paint murals
chained to the streets like eternal jurors

[outro]
street scriptures~heavy like coffins they carry
each verse is a name on the walls where they bury
prayers get lost in the wind’s cold whispers
the streets write their tales in these blood~soaked scriptures


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