Intro
Nine coats of paint on one crooked door
Every color underneath a different war
Grandmother's chalk mark still under the floor
Say this house been fed before
Verse
First world was a chapel, pews stripped down for wood
Preacher sold the copper pipe, said the Lord understood
Second world a barbershop, clippers hummed all day
Old man swept the hair for tips, called every curl a wage
Third world was a corner store, milk crate for a shelf
Fourth world brought the iron bars, man armed himself
Fifth world caught the fire, the check came in late
Sixth world built it back up on the money and the wait
Seventh world a boarding house, eight men to a room
Eighth world sat there silent, windows sealed like a tomb
Now it's mine, the ninth world, stove replaced the pew
Same nail holes in the ceiling holding up the residue
Found the preacher's Bible wedged under the stair
Set it on the mantle next the scale and the prayer
Ash on the windowsill from every fire that came through
This house don't forget nothing, it just adds a residue
Chorus
Nine worlds, one trap house, same door that won't lock
Every hand that built it left a print on the block
Paint over paint over paint but the scars still talk
Nine worlds, one trap house, still standing, still hot
Verse
My mother scrubbed the floors of the seventh world for rent
Told me the house remembers everything you spent
Raised in borrowed rooms on somebody's old regret
Sleeping where the boarding men coughed up their debt
Learned to cook where the barber used to trim the fade
Same mirror on the wall, cracked but never replaced
Count plates instead of prayers, keep the scale nearby
Keep the preacher's Bible close in case I need to fly
Fire scar on the beam still shaped just like a hand
Say it's the sixth world reaching down to help me stand
I don't talk about the corners, I just know the math
Nine lives lived in one structure, mine's the aftermath
Gate outside been rusted shut since the fourth world's war
Welded it back open, said we ain't hiding no more
Ash still in the mortar from a flame I never lit
Guess survival's just inheritance you learn to split
Chorus
Nine worlds, one trap house, same door that won't lock
Every hand that built it left a print on the block
Paint over paint over paint but the scars still talk
Nine worlds, one trap house, still standing, still hot
Bridge
Sometimes I sit the stair where the pews used to be
Wonder if the tenth world gon remember me
Maybe he'll find my scale wedged under the floor
Add his coat of paint, walk through the same door
I ain't the first to bleed here and I won't be the last
This house don't hold funerals, it just holds the past
I write my name in chalk where the grandmother wrote hers
Say the trap's just a chapel for whoever it was
Outro
Nine worlds, one trap house, one door that won't lock
I'm just the paint drying before the
