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Ferryman's Interest van Young Ferris — hoes
NummerWA-FCb4hr5CtvRc

Ferryman's Interest

vanYoung Ferris

TrapDonker4:00
SongtekstEngelsGelicentieerd voor locaties
0:00van 4:00
−4:00

Songtrailer (30 s)

Het krachtigste fragment van het nummer, met de WeavyAudio-kaart: 30 seconden. De videopagina openen

Over Ferryman's Interest

«Ferryman's Interest» is een donkere song in het genre trap, van Young Ferris (4:00, gezongen in het Engels). Dit nummer maakt deel uit van de catalogus van WeavyAudio en is gelicentieerd voor weergave in koffiebars, restaurants, sportscholen, winkels en andere locaties.

Meer: trap zonder extra royalty’s. Meer op sfeer: donker. Licentie voor uw locatie.

Credits

Genre
Trap
Sfeer
Donker
Duur
4:00
Zang
Engels
Licentie
Gelicentieerd voor locaties

Trefwoorden

  • 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

Toegevoegd 2 maanden geleden · 27-8-2026 · gelicentieerd voor gebruik op locatie

Songtekst· volgt de audio

Ferryman's Interest – songtekst

Intro

Mattress stuffed with receipts from the corner store

Ten years of rent paid in crumpled ones

My father kept the stubs, I keep the hunger

The hunger keeps the count

Verse 1

Sold my first brick before I sold my first lie

Six AM, the blocks still sleeping, I was wide

Twenty dollars in my pocket, twenty reasons to keep moving

Mother's pills weren't cheap and the landlord kept the proving

Started with a corner, corner turned to corridor

Corridor turned warehouse, warehouse turned to four

Four locations, four crews, four different names I answer to

Every name a scar, every scar a path I had to travel through

Nephew asked me once why I don't ever rest

Said the men who rest first are the ones who fail the test

I was twelve when I learned compound interest don't apply to love

Just to debt and doubt, just to blood and shove

Five years in the game, five years eating dust

Five years building credit with a currency of trust

Chorus

I count the ones that didn't make it to the morning

I count the ones that swore they'd burn but turned to smoke

I count the ones whose names got buried in the pavement

That's the interest that a man like me provoke

(That's the interest, yeah)

(That's the interest that I provoke)

Verse 2

Moved the weight to weight, the weight became a ache

Became a permanent flex in my left shoulder blade

Became a reason to never trust a doctor with the truth

Became a monument to everything I had to prove

Brother took a bullet meant for territory lines

Territory's just another word for mortgaged time

I inherited the debt, inherited the name

Inherited the ledger where the dead keep flame

Cop stopped me on Mercer, said he knew my file

File said I was dangerous, I smiled

Said the dangerous ones are the ones who understand

That a closed fist opens when you got a better plan

Thirty-two years old with a kingdom made of paper

Paper burns but the lessons linger, vapor's what I gave her

(Gave her)

Verse 3

Sister got out, moved to Harrisburg with a nurse's wage

Sent me fifty dollars monthly just to turn the page

I kept it in a frame next to Pops' discharge paperwork

Both of us were soldiers, both just learned the way it hurts

Now I'm sitting in a warehouse that I own, not rent

Counting all the years I spent so other years could meant

Something more than survival, something more than static

Something like a legacy that wasn't just a tactic

The young ones look at me like I'm immortal, like I'm proof

I'm just a man who traded youth for roof

And I'd do it all again with no regret

The interest on a life like this ain't paid out yet

Chorus

I count the ones that didn't make it to the morning

I count the ones that swore they'd burn but turned to smoke

I count the ones whose names got buried in the pavement

That's the interest that a man like me provoke

(That's the interest, yeah)

(That's the interest that I provoke)

Outro

Mattress still got receipts

Father's stubs, my hunger

The hunger keeps the count

Always keeps the count

Uit de catalogus

Ook op WeavyAudio

WeavyAudio StudioWA-FCb4hr5CtvRc

Versies van dit nummer

Kant A

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Kant B

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