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Ravens Over the Ration Line 2 van Young Ferris — hoes
NummerWA-hfDIomv9NAG4

Ravens Over the Ration Line (versie 2)

vanYoung Ferris

TrapDonker92 BPMF-mineur2:57
SongtekstEngelsGelicentieerd voor locaties
0:00van 2:57
−2:57

Songtrailer (30 s)

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

Over Ravens Over the Ration Line (versie 2)

«Ravens Over the Ration Line (versie 2)» is een donkere song in het genre trap, van Young Ferris (92 BPM, F-mineur, 2:57, 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
Tempo
92 BPM
Toonsoort
F-mineur
Duur
2:57
Zang
Engels
Licentie
Gelicentieerd voor locaties

Trefwoorden

  • Hip-Hop
  • reflective
  • smooth
  • weary triumph
  • modern hip-hop
  • sparse piano
  • deep kick
  • crisp hi-hats
  • sub bass
  • Dark atmospheric trap
  • Norse mythology samples
  • heavy bass
  • 92 BPM
  • F minor
  • melodic half-sung verses with hushed harmonized hook

Toegevoegd 1 maand geleden · 19-9-2026 · gelicentieerd voor gebruik op locatie

Songtekst· volgt de audio

Ravens Over the Ration Line (versie 2) – songtekst

Intro

Frost on the window, numbers etched in the glass

Grandmother's coat lining stitched with stamps from the past

Ravens on the wire before the bakery opened its door

She said count what you're given, never count what before

Verse

Dawn broke gray over the ration line, breath turned to smoke

Grandmother held her book like a psalm she woke to invoke

Stamped in blue ink, one loaf, one candle, one cup

Ravens on the gutter watched the whole street line up

She said hunger teaches patience faster than any priest

Sewed the extra stamps in her hem for the leanest feast

Coal stove coughing ash while the kettle sang thin

Six kids in one room, she stretched flour like it was sin

Butcher weighed the bone before he weighed the meat

Told her scraps was scraps but she made marrow sweet

Tin plates clattered like church bells calling the poor

Ravens counted heads better than the man at the door

She never begged, just budgeted grief into grace

Wore the same wool coat till it thinned to lace

Said the birds ain't scavengers, they're witnesses to will

Standing over the ones who learned starving and still

Chorus

Ravens over the ration line, watching who won't break

Every empty plate a lesson, every stamp a stake

Wings don't feed you but they teach you how to wait

Ravens over the ration line, that's how you learn your weight

Verse

Now I stand in a different line, county building, fluorescent hum

Same birds circle the parking lot, patient, waiting for crumbs

Grandmother's book is ash and paper, but the math she taught remains

Stretch the check to Sunday, save the extra for the rain

I split my plate three ways before I ever touch a bite

Learned to ration hope the way she rationed light

Scar on my knuckle from the factory line that closed

Wore that number like she wore her stamps, nobody chose

The cold don't care what year it is, it bites the same

Only difference is the paperwork, the acronym, the name

I keep her coat folded in the closet, wool still holds her shape

Ravens on my fire escape like they're checking the estate

Told my son what she told me, patience is a trade

Every debt gets paid in time, even the ones delayed

He asked why the birds keep coming, I said they remember more

They're counting who stood steady when the wolf was at the door

Chorus

Ravens over the ration line, watching who won't break

Every empty plate a lesson, every stamp a stake

Wings don't feed you but they teach you how to wait

Ravens over the ration line, that's how you learn your weight

Bridge

They used to say the ravens meant that death was drawing near

But grandmother said they're keeping score of who's still here

Every name they circled turned to something like a crown

Marginal in the ledger, legendary in this town

The line moves slower now but the will don't lose its shine

Legacy ain't the money, it's the way you hold the line

Outro

Frost melts different now but the birds still know my face

Grandmother's stamps turned stories, stories turned to grace

Uit de catalogus

Ook op WeavyAudio

WeavyAudio StudioWA-hfDIomv9NAG4

Versies van dit nummer

Kant A

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Kant B

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