Mama’s Smoke Screen
rap, gritty and raw., rapid, rapid-fire rap with jazzy saxophone riffs, jazz, industrial, booming trap beats layered with industrial clangs and hisses. dark and brooding male vocals, doo-wop vocal harmonies in the background, male vocals
Mama’s Smoke Screen
rap, gritty and raw., rapid, rapid-fire rap with jazzy saxophone riffs, jazz, industrial, booming trap beats layered with industrial clangs and hisses. dark and brooding male vocals, doo-wop vocal harmonies in the background, male vocals
Lyrics
Verse 1
Baby bottle empty, fridge filled with neglect,
Crib’s a battlefield, diaper smell collect.
Bassinet a prison, wails echo the room,
Mama’s in the bathroom, clouds of perfume.
Daddy’s on the couch, chain-smoking his pride,
Joint in his hand, guilt he won’t confide.
Baby cries louder, walls don’t even care,
Milk powder gone, but the ashes everywhere.
Chorus
Mama’s got a smoke screen, baby can’t be seen,
Daddy got a pipe dream, living in between.
Baby screams, mama fiends, daddy’s schemes obscene,
Where’s the love? Just a void on the family screen.
Verse 2
Broken high chair, crumbs on the floor,
Pacifier buried by the drugstore score.
Mama in the mirror, fixing up her face,
Baby in the corner, losing the race.
Daddy’s got a hustle, but it ain’t for the crib,
Money burned quick, no receipts for the fib.
Baby’s lullaby is the sound of the fights,
Saxophones crying through the city’s dim lights.
Bridge
Crack in the window, crack in the heart,
Mama’s breaking bad, tearing love apart.
Baby’s first steps on a floor full of shards,
Future slipping fast, hitting concrete hard.