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Bone Tithe di Young Ferris — copertina
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Bone Tithe

diYoung Ferris

TrapCupa2:54
TestiingleseCon licenza per i locali
0:00su 2:54
−2:54

Trailer della canzone (30 s)

Il passaggio più intenso della canzone, con la scheda WeavyAudio: 30 secondi. Apri la pagina del video

Informazioni su Bone Tithe

«Bone Tithe» è una canzone cupa di genere trap, di Young Ferris (2:54, cantato in inglese). Questo brano fa parte del catalogo di WeavyAudio ed è con licenza per la diffusione in caffè, ristoranti, palestre, negozi e altri locali.

Altro: rap e trap senza royalty aggiuntive. Altro per atmosfera: cupa. Ottenga una licenza per il suo locale.

Crediti

Genere
Trap
Atmosfera
Cupa
Durata
2:54
Voce
inglese
Licenza
Con licenza per i locali

Parole chiave

  • 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

Aggiunto 2 mesi fa · 27/08/2026 · con licenza per la diffusione nei locali

Testi· seguono l’audio

Bone Tithe – testo

Verse

Basement gym below the butcher's, sawdust on the mat

Grandfather wrapped his knuckles in the paper from the fat

Called the swelling interest, called the bruising rent

Every purse he won went straight to cover what he spent

Kept a jar of teeth up on the mantle like a crown

Said a man ain't earned his name till one of his falls down

Father took the gloves at seventeen, same jar, same shelf

Broke his jaw in Memphis, wired it shut, fought through it himself

Taught me how to breathe through pain like it was just the weather

Said the scar tissue binds a family closer than the leather

Pre-Chorus

How many knuckles turn to gravel 'fore they call it paid

How much of a man gets buried in the bones he made

Chorus

Pay the bone tithe, one more tooth for the jar

Every crack in the knuckle is a mile marked how far

Blood on the canvas write the only name that's true

You don't get to be legend till the bone comes due

Verse

I fought my first at twelve, cracked rib, didn't cry

Coach said tears cost extra, said the jar don't lie

Learned to count my breath in rounds instead of years

Learned a standing ovation sound the same as jeers

Twenty-six now, my hands read like a map of debt

Every scar's a station where I ain't paid off yet

Still I send the purse home, still I set the tooth

Still I lie to my mother, tell her I'm alright, that's the truth

Some nights the jar looks heavier than the belt I won

Some nights I wonder what's left of me when the fighting's done

Pre-Chorus

How many knuckles turn to gravel 'fore they call it paid

How much of a man gets buried in the bones he made

Chorus

Pay the bone tithe, one more tooth for the jar

Every crack in the knuckle is a mile marked how far

Blood on the canvas write the only name that's true

You don't get to be legend till the bone comes due

Bridge

My son picked up the wraps last week, I took them from his hand

Told him the jar stays full, he don't gotta understand

He asked me why I kept it, I said it's how we count the cost

Then I locked the case for good, said some tithes gotta stop

Not 'cause the fight wasn't worth it, not 'cause the name don't hold

Just 'cause a legend's made of more than what got broke and sold

Chorus

Pay the bone tithe, one more tooth for the jar

Every crack in the knuckle is a mile marked how far

Blood on the canvas write the only name that's true

You don't get to be legend till the bone comes due

Dal catalogo

Anche su WeavyAudio

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Versioni di questa canzone

Lato A

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Lato B

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