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Ledger of Old Kings de Young Ferris — capa
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Ledger of Old Kings

byYoung Ferris

TrapSombrio2:32
LetrainglêsLicenciado para estabelecimentos
0:00of 2:32
−2:32

Trailer da música (30 s)

O trecho mais marcante da música, com o cartão da WeavyAudio: 30 segundos. Abrir a página do vídeo

Sobre Ledger of Old Kings

“Ledger of Old Kings” é uma música sombria de trap, de Young Ferris (2:32, cantada em inglês). Faz parte do catálogo da WeavyAudio e é licenciada para execução em cafeterias, restaurantes, academias, lojas e outros estabelecimentos.

Mais: trap livre de royalties. Mais por clima: sombrio. Licencie para o seu estabelecimento.

Créditos

Gênero
Trap
Clima
Sombrio
Duração
2:32
Vocais
inglês
Licença
Licenciado para estabelecimentos

Palavras-chave

  • 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

Adicionada há 2 meses · 27/08/2026 · licenciada para execução em estabelecimentos

Letra· acompanha o áudio

Ledger of Old Kings lyrics

Intro

Grandmother kept the ledger in a mason jar of ash

Names of men who didn't make it past the factory gate

Some men leave a will, some men leave a scar

I keep the receipts written in their blood and sweat

Verse 1

Third shift, five a.m., the furnace mouth still breathing

Daddy's hands were leather, knuckles split and grieving

Forty years the same machine, the same relay, the same burn

Said the company don't count you till the day you don't return

Ledger in his locker—no, ledger in his bones

Every overtime a transaction, every scar a loan

Uncle Ray lost half a thumb to the press in '84

Came back Tuesday morning like the debt was never more

Mama kept his photograph beside the kitchen sink

Said survival ain't the story, it's the price we never think

I was seven when I learned the arithmetic of pain

Add the hours, subtract the fingers, multiply the strain

Grandfather's generation dug the tunnel under steel

Left their names in concrete so the city's built to feel

We inherit more than trauma—we inherit how to stand

When the ledger's written in the ash of your own hand

Chorus

We don't keep the gold, we keep the ledger

Every name, every scar, we remember

The cost is the crown and the crown is the cost

We don't keep the gold, we keep the ledger

Verse 2

At the gate they count the bodies, not the men that carried them

Twenty years I watched the roster shrink and no one said a thing

Tommy took a chemical that ate his lungs from in

Silent compensation, quiet, just a manila file and pen

I was old enough to know the game before I played it

Clocked in at the loading dock, my hands already fated

First week I carved a mark into the timber of the dock

Every day another notch, a private ticking clock

The foreman said don't get attached, they're just positions

Not lives, not names, not sons with their own ambitions

But I keep the ledger anyway, it's written in my stride

It's written in the way I walk, the way I earned my pride

Sister went to college on the overtime he bled

Said she'd break the cycle, leave the factory for dead

But she called me on her birthday, said she sees his face

In every spreadsheet, every graph, every boardroom space

The ledger follows forward, it don't stay behind

It's the inheritance of knowing what it costs to climb

Chorus

We don't keep the gold, we keep the ledger

Every name, every scar, we remember

The cost is the crown and the crown is the cost

We don't keep the gold, we keep the ledger

Verse 3

Now I'm teaching my son the language of the line

How to read the ledger written in the rust and time

Not to glorify the suffering, but to honor what they gave

Not to worship at the altar of the grave

But to understand that survival is a craft

That the strong aren't born, they're built from their last gasp

The ledger ain't a burden that we pass from hand to hand

It's a map of who we are, it's the truth of where we stand

Every name a cornerstone, every scar a testimony

That we didn't break when breaking was the prophecy

Do catálogo

Também em WeavyAudio

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Lado A

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Lado B

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