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Runes for the Starving de Young Ferris — pochette
TitreWA-fflQiRPTgxQY

Runes for the Starving

deYoung Ferris

TrapSombre2:44
ParolesanglaisSous licence pour les établissements
0:00sur 2:44
−2:44

Bande-annonce de la chanson (30 s)

Le passage le plus fort de la chanson, avec la carte WeavyAudio : 30 secondes. Ouvrir la page de la vidéo

À propos de Runes for the Starving

« Runes for the Starving » est une chanson sombre du genre trap, signé Young Ferris (2:44, 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
2:44
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

Runes for the Starving – paroles

Intro

Mama kept the ledger, pencil stub behind her ear

Counting other people's change while her own children stayed near

Every coin a prayer, every prayer a brick

Built the house we grew in on arithmetic

Verse 1

Mother worked the register at a store she'd never own

Rang up groceries for the same eight blocks, same till, same tone

Forty years of mornings, 5:15 alarm clock sharp

Knew the names of every regular before the sun would start

Her fingernails were stained from the register tape, the ink

She'd count the drawer twice, catch the penny slips they'd never think

To notice or repay—she just kept the books so clean

Made the numbers honest in a place that loved a scheme

She brought her lunch in foil, saved the bag for something else

Never took a sick day, said the store depended on herself

When they cut her loose at sixty-three, no pension, no goodbye

She walked home with her apron folded, head held level-high

Chorus

She taught me how to carry what the world won't carry for you

Every small thing counted, every debt came due

The ledger's in my blood now, every line a sacred vow

She built a fortune out of nothing, I'm still learning how

Verse 2

Brother took the corners, thirteen years old with a plan

Sold the little hustles, moved the weight, became a man

Too quick—but he was feeding three while Daddy chased the ghost

Of something in a bottle, so my brother played the post

He knew the angles, knew the cops who'd look the other way

Knew which corner was which color, which day was which day

For two years he was golden, stacking deep inside the crib

Then they took him on a Tuesday, gave him seven-to-the-fifth

I visited him monthly, watched his shoulders grow more wide

Doing time the righteous way, no snitching, no divide

He came home different—quieter, like the years had filed him down

Now he runs a shop that teaches kids the real way to get down

Chorus

He taught me how to carry what the world won't carry for you

Every small thing counted, every debt came due

The ledger's in my blood now, every line a sacred vow

He built a fortress out of ashes, I'm still learning how

Verse 3

I keep both books now—mama's in one hand, brother's in the next

The numbers never lie, the ledger is the only text

That tells you what you're worth when the world says you're worth less

When your zip code is your sentence and your hunger is your test

I count the small transactions, how a dollar feeds a soul

How a single day of honesty can make a broken man whole

The arithmetic of endurance, the mathematics of the skin

The compound interest of survival—you don't cash it out, you spend it in

Outro

Ledger stays open, pencil never breaks

Every line a lesson, every sum we make

The numbers keep the truth alive, the truth keeps us alive

Du catalogue

Aussi sur WeavyAudio

WeavyAudio StudioWA-fflQiRPTgxQY

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Face A

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