Edibles (Official Audio)

Edibles (Official Audio) Realised by Express Musik (420 Record). Producer: John Skopie Producer: Express Music (420 Records) Beatproduktion: Express Music (420 Records) Associated Performer, Vocals: Jamail Author: Drip Monroe086 Composer Lyricist: Drip Monroe086, Express Music (420 Records) Master: Jamail Studio Personnel, Mixer: Express Music (420 Records), Jamail 👉 Subscribe for more underground rap, dark trap, and real hip hop music. 💬 Drop a comment if you feel the energy. 👍 Like & share to support independent artists. Support us un Instagram: / @expressmusic-p7i If you want to hear more of our crazy music then subscribe to the channel "Express Music" and like the Video to Support our channel. I thank every subscriber and supporter of the channel. Lyrics of this Song: (Intro) Block cold. Stairwell stinks. Phone buzz. Nobody speaks. Same scars. Same concrete. EDIBLES hit [HOOK — AGGRESSIVE] Edibles, red eyes, dead nights, no sleep, Black hood, cracked phone, ten toes on the concrete. Whole block know us, but they don't know the details, Cold world, closed doors, no love in the retail. Edibles, bass hit, walls shake, floor split, Bad days, black rain, came up through the bullshit. Talk slick, switch quick, we remember that shit, Now the whole room goes silent when the bassline kicks. [VERSE 1 — EXTENDED RHYME CHAINS] Cracked plaster, fast chatter, cold laughter in the hallway, Black trainers, bad favours, rent overdue by Friday. Thin patience, grim faces, same stairwell, same place, You can tell who really lived it by the silence in their face. Night shift, light flicks, damp walls, mould growing, Old heads, folded arms, clock hands still going. One meal split four ways, nobody says they're hungry, Now they flex for the camera like the struggle never touched 'em. Cold dinners, broke winters, old blisters, no shelter, Low ceilings, slow healing, nobody made it better. Fake friends, loose ends, switch sides under pressure, I can hear the lie coming before they finish the sentence. Back then, no invite, just a stairwell and a speaker, Bass rattling loose bolts, neighbours banging on the heater. Whole life felt crooked, every week a new procedure, Now I carve the pain in syllables — the delivery gets meaner. [HOOK] Edibles, red eyes, dead nights, no sleep, Black hood, cracked phone, ten toes on the concrete. Whole block know us, but they don't know the details, Cold world, closed doors, no love in the retail. Edibles, bass hit, walls shake, floor split, Bad days, black rain, came up through the bullshit. Talk slick, switch quick, we remember that shit, Now the whole room goes silent when the bassline kicks. [VERSE 2 — DOUBLE-TIME / DENSE MULTIS] Grim weather, thin sweaters, dim pressure, no shelter, Six missed calls, brick walls, bad news, no help here. Big talk, little action, everybody a pretender, Same ones shouting loyalty fold when the nights get colder. Head full of static, the traffic sounds distant, Dark tint, sharp wind, whole world feels different. They want the aesthetic, but they lack the conviction, They want the scars for the story, not the pain that comes with them. No sleep, cold feet, old grief, jaw clenched, Low funds, numb thumbs, cracked screen, rent spent. Whole squad grew up where the good luck gets bent, Now the kick hits heavy like the door when it slams shut. Edibles, time drips, the streetlights stretch, Black clouds crawl where the skyline bends. Same four walls, same names, same debts, Tryna turn a cold past into something they respect. Don't speak on the nights that you never survived, Don't claim our side just because you like the vibe. We were down in the dirt while you watched from the sidelines, Now you copy every move, but the scars ain't the same kind. [BRIDGE — BEAT CUT / WHISPER] No love. No trust. Cold stairs. Black dust. Same block. Same pain. Different face. Same rain. [FINAL HOOK — FULL DISTORTION] Edibles, red eyes, dead nights, no sleep, Black hood, cracked phone, ten toes on the concrete. Whole block know us, but they don't know the details, Cold world, closed doors, no love in the retail. Edibles, bass hit, walls shake, floor split, Bad days, black rain, came up through the bullshit. Talk slick, switch quick, we remember that shit, NOW THE WHOLE ROOM GOES SILENT WHEN THE BASSLINE KICKS. [OUTRO — PITCH-DOWN] Cracked plaster. Cold laughter. No handouts. Built after. Edibles… Whole block knows.