Dollars on the Dash (wersja 2)

Verse

Corner store receipt from '95 still folded in my drawer

Block star back then on the basketball court's floor

Nobody called me captain but I ran point every game

Paid for college with the coins that other kids named shame

Mama worked two jobs, clock to clock, no time for tears

I carried groceries home at midnight, wiped away my peers' fears

Told them every dollar counted like a heartbeat in my chest

Turned that hunger into a hustle, never let it rest

Now I drive a car the old man's proud of owning

Dashboard lights still reflect the poverty I'm moving from

Two hundred dollars cash, folded up beneath the seat

Not enough to buy a house but enough to eat

Pre-Chorus

So how do you balance gratitude with growing wealth

How much is enough when your people still go in debt

Chorus

Dollars on the dash where my grandma's rosary hung

Same hands that folded bills now holding something that belongs

Every dollar I earn feels like it answered what was owed

Still I drive careful, watching where this money goes

Verse

Boardroom table made of mahogany, polished to a shine

Man across from me worth more than my mama's rent line

I shook his hand, kept mine firm and steady as a stone

He asked about margins, I told him about a home

Told the truth to get the deal but kept it real with myself too

Some nights the numbers feel like blood that I'm trying to prove

Every milestone landed smooth but at what cost in rest

I still visit Friday mornings, feed the block the same as best

Pre-Chorus

So how do you balance gratitude with growing wealth

How much is enough when your people still go in debt

Chorus

Dollars on the dash where my grandma's rosary hung

Same hands that folded bills now holding something that belongs

Every dollar I earn feels like it answered what was owed

Still I drive careful, watching where this money goes

Bridge

Maybe wealth ain't just the number, maybe it's the why

Maybe every penny carries somebody who never died

I keep the coins my grandmother gave me in a glass jar near the door

Every time that car turns warm, I'm still counting something more

Some days the numbers dance like they owe me something back

Outro

Dollars on the dash where my grandma's rosary hung

Same hands that folded bills now holding something that belongs