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Valhalla on Layaway de Young Ferris — pochette
TitreWA-S0hQyxo5rxif

Valhalla on Layaway

deYoung Ferris

TrapSombre2:47
ParolesanglaisSous licence pour les établissements
0:00sur 2:47
−2:47

Bande-annonce de la chanson (30 s)

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À propos de Valhalla on Layaway

« Valhalla on Layaway » est une chanson sombre du genre trap, signé Young Ferris (2:47, chanté en anglais). Ce titre fait partie du catalogue de WeavyAudio et est sous licence pour une diffusion dans les cafés, restaurants, salles de sport, commerces et autres établissements.

À voir aussi: rap et trap sans redevances supplémentaires. À voir aussi par ambiance: sombre. Obtenir une licence pour votre établissement.

Crédits

Genre
Trap
Ambiance
Sombre
Durée
2:47
Voix
anglais
Licence
Sous licence pour les établissements

Mots-clés

  • rap
  • Aggressive hip hop / trap banger with male vocals; menacing synth lead over punchy low-end
  • rapid-fire hats and snapping snares
  • Verses stay sparse and dry for tight
  • percussive bars; choruses swell with blown-out bass
  • layered gang chants
  • and widened stereo
  • Breakdown sections drop to almost acapella with faint synth drones
  • then slam back in with an even heavier
  • saturated mix and extra risers
  • hip hop
  • rapid
  • raw
  • vocal

Ajouté il y a 2 mois · 27/08/2026 · sous licence pour une diffusion dans les établissements

Paroles· suivent l’audio

Valhalla on Layaway – paroles

Intro

Thirty-seven dollars in my pocket, Tuesday morning

The landlord's knocking soft like he don't want to wake the dead

But the rent's two weeks behind and the notice on the door

Yellowed at the edges like a photograph of before

Verse 1

Mama worked the cannery line, fingers wrapped in gauze

Twelve-hour shifts for forty years, never counted what it cost

Said the work don't love you back but it pays the light bill down

Keeps the roof from caving in on this particular town

I was seventeen when she showed me how to file a claim

Insurance company sent a letter with her name spelled wrong—same game

She just laughed it off and kept the lunchbox by the door

Said the system's built to break you, child, but breaking don't mean poor

My uncle had a warehouse job until his shoulder quit

Doctor said he'd never lift again, but the clinic wouldn't admit

He was suffering, just aging, just a body running down

So he fixed cars in the driveway, kept the whole block rolling round

I learned the engine's just a lesson in what holds and what will fail

Every bolt you turn is bargaining, every patch a prayer or nail

Chorus

I'm building heaven out of scraps, out of what won't break

Every tool I've borrowed, every hand I had to take

Nothing comes for free but nothing's promised to be lost

I'm building heaven out of scraps, and I'll pay the cost

Verse 2

Started at the dock when I was barely old enough to lie

Loading cargo till my spine curved like a question mark on time

Boss man said if you can't keep up, there's a hundred more outside

So I moved faster than the pain and I kept my mouth sealed tight

Saved three thousand dollars in a shoebox under board

Took a course on nights, learned a trade that's always needed, in demand, adored

Now I bid on jobs and hire kids the way I wish someone had hired me

Give them forty hours, tell them college ain't the only way to be free

My daughter asked me last week why my hands look like a map

I told her every scar's a story, every blister's where I cracked

But I cracked and stayed together, kept the pieces on the shelf

Built a life that's mine, not borrowed, and that's the only wealth

Chorus

I'm building heaven out of scraps, out of what won't break

Every tool I've borrowed, every hand I had to take

Nothing comes for free but nothing's promised to be lost

I'm building heaven out of scraps, and I'll pay the cost

Bridge

They don't write the story down in books about the ones who stayed

Who planted roots in concrete, who never got away

The ones who turned the corner with a single breath of luck

And built a wall of steady hands that nobody could touch

Verse 3

Now I walk these streets and see the young ones hungry, lean

Eyes still sharp and searching for a door that ain't been seen

I remember that reflection, know exactly where they stand

So I hired the kid with nothing, gave him work and gave him plans

He's got a foreman's license now, a crew that trusts his word

Du catalogue

Aussi sur WeavyAudio

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