lirik lagu vanny goodfella - corner stores & hood dreams(remix)
[intro]
(a cold, dead serious hymn for the corners where futures get sold and prayers are whispered between cigarette smoke and late~night sirens.)
[verse 1]
corner stores stacked with empties, bottles clink like metronomes
stolen bikes pedal ghosts down alleys where the streetlight’s gone
crack heads nod to a rhythm that the city wrote in tar
hood rats on stoops counting blessings that get swallowed by the dark
blocks breathe like animals, banks look hollow in the day
guns tucked under coats where hope got left to fade away
thugs move like chess pieces, gangsters praying on tomorrows
employers pass by windows, winners traveling with borrowed sorrow
[chorus(female vocal) harmonizing]
corner stores and hood dreams, where the lost learn to scheme
no smiling, no laughing, just the echo of a scream
dead ass serious—life split on a seam
faith versus fate in the smoke of a dream
[verse 2]
losers sell their dignity for change that never feeds the soul
teachers teach from cracked floors while the precincts write the toll
police flashlight sermons, detectives trade in cold facts
narcs collect confessions while the city counts the cracks
jail doors sing lullabies, prison yards write the code
redemption’s just a rumor passed from preacher to the road
funerals smell of roses and the stiff handshake of grief
ministers speak of saving while the streets keep what they keep
[bridge]
home comings full of memories, parties full of hard laughs
hood dates in the rain—two broken mirrors on the path
quitting is a mountain walked by feet that never rest
sinning is a language taught by hunger in the chest
[verse 3]
criminals and cousins, names blended in the dirt
detective eyes stay narrow, faith tries to clean the hurt
reverends pray the loudest when the coffins come around
funeral homes memorize the footsteps of the sound
guns sing in alleys, hymns of metal and regret
drugs trade for futures that the sun won’t resurrect
freestylin’ on the stoop, spit truth until it bleeds
no smiling, no laughing, dead ass serious—these streets lead
[outro / final chorus(female vocal)harmonizing]
corner stores and hood dreams, where you pay for what you learn
precincts keep the ledger, and the corners watch you burn
redemption like a whisper that the ministers repeat
but fate’s a heavy anchor, and the pavement keeps the beat
corner stores and hood dreams, no smiling, no laughing, just the seam
between who you were and what survives beneath the beam
dead ass serious—keep your faith, keep your fists
hood dreams keep breathing while the city counts the lists
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