Mind Run - Punch Clock Prophets: Şarkı Sözleri, Müzik Videoları ve Konserler

Punch Clock Prophets

Mind Run

3

Hip-Hop/Rap

Mind Run adlı parça {albumName} albümünün bir parçası olarak Purgatorio Studio tarafından 30 Mayıs 2025 tarihinde yayınlandıRhythms Against Nature

Şarkı Bilgileri

AlbümRhythms Against Nature

Çıkış Tarihi30 Mayıs 2025

FirmaPurgatorio Studio

DilEnglish

Melodiklik

Akustiklik

Valence

Dans Edilebilirlik

Enerji

BPM123

GENEL BAKIŞ

ŞARKI SÖZLERI

Krediler

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Punch Clock Prophets

Punch Clock Prophets

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Punch Clock Prophets

Punch Clock Prophets

Composer

Şarkı sözleri

Crack in the pavement, smoke from the vents,

Every breath I take gotta pay that rent.

Clock tickin’ loud like a bomb in my chest,

Got ghosts in the walls and no time to rest.

Heartbeat kickin’ like a steel toe boot,

Mind run red but the soul stay mute.

Whole damn world tryna drain my youth,

So I sharpen my teeth and I bite that truth.

Can’t slow down, got a brain like wire,

No map left and the road’s on fire.

I spit like I’m tryna make time expire,

Put pain in my pen like a live tripwire.

Got hands that work and a back that breaks,

Still carry this weight for the fam’s own sake.

They eatin’ off plates that my grind still makes,

While the suits want more and the rent inflates.

Talk cheap but the grind ain’t free,

Sleep like a myth and the stress ain’t weak.

Doubt at the door with a long-ass reach,

But I cut that rope when it tried to preach.

No savior, no plan B,

Just fumes in my lungs and a need to be.

They told me, “Son, don’t dream too wild,”

But I’m breakin’ the mold like a junkyard child.

I seen peace die in a parking lot,

Seen dreams rot in a vacant spot.

I don’t blink when the fire gets hot—

I just lace my boots and I give what I got.

These walls talk back and they know my name,

Every verse I write is a shot at shame.

If I fall, I rise like the game got hacked—

A glitch in the code with a warpath track.

Every second is a blade in a deck of fate,

Gotta play my hand ‘fore it’s too damn late.

Can’t rewind, can’t pause, can’t fake—

So I ride that line ‘til the whole thing breaks.

Can’t count friends, they flip like dimes,

Only show up when I’m spittin’ rhymes.

But where were they when the heat got close?

When I pawned my mic just to make that toast?

Old scars map out the route I took,

Never read from the book, I rewrote the book.

I don’t flex, I explode and bend,

Every bar a scar that refuses to mend.

From basements lit by a naked bulb,

To stages loud where the stories unfold.

Every mic I grip is a lifeline swung,

Every line I spit got a loaded lung.

Middle finger to the ones that laughed,

Now I carve my name in a smoke-filled path.

If pain’s a drug, I’m a lifelong user—

Ink-stained veins with a flow like bruises.

Put pressure on glass, watch diamonds form,

I was born in the storm where the lightning’s born.

Ain’t sweet with the pen, I’m a lion’s claw,

Got fight in my heart like a rebel law.

Broke no oath but the silence cracked,

When I screamed at fate and it screamed right back.

I'm not lost, I’m just mid-transmission—

Still breakin’ chains from a past religion.

Still flip that coin with a silent prayer,

Still dodge death with a thousand stares.

Still walk streets where the needles sleep,

Still dream wild where the dead don’t weep.

This for the ones who ain’t got the words,

Just screams in the dark that no one heard.

For the kid with the pad in a half-lit room,

With a busted mic and a baseline doom.

For the moms on E, and the dads on hold,

And the kids in the cold with their futures sold.

This world don’t give, it just takes your piece,

So I write with rage and I rhyme for peace.

I ain’t bitter, I’m battle-bred,

I take my shot with a hand that bled.

No hooks, no filters, no feel-good spin,

Just a war cry verse through the devil’s grin.

They want views, I want truth,

They post lies, I spit proof.

And I’ll run this track ‘til my lungs go black—

'Til the pain stops echoing back to back.

Written by: Punch Clock

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