[Intro] Kitchen light flicker Foil on the plate, lil glitter Lighter in my fist, got a twitch in it Shadow on the wall, say “hit that again” [Verse 1] Ash on my shirt, white dust on my phone Burnt-up lips, keep chewin’ on bone Teeth tap glass, that click like a metronome Every drag feel like diggin’ my own tombstone Momma framed on the fridge, eyes still beggin’ I’m starin’ at the stem, both hands steady Heartbeats march like a drumline ready Then stall in my chest when the rock turn heavy Whole damn block know the smell in the vents Neighbors hear screams, just say that it’s kids I’m bent by the sink, see the roach just twitch See my own face in the chrome, don’t fit [Chorus] Hit that glass, watch the angels cough Halo crack, all the wings fall off I been prayin’ to the lighter tip Every blessing just another hit Hit that glass, watch the angels cough Black smoke paintin’ over every cross If the Devil ever need a fix He gon’ find me where the spoon sit [Verse 2] Burn mark circles on the cheap wood table Cartoon show on the screen, no cable Jaw lock tight, can’t read that label Only thing I count is the crumbs in the cradle Eyes wide, see spiders in the popcorn ceiling Hear God talk through the floorboard squealin’ He say “son, you done sold your feelin’” I say “cool, long as I keep this demon breath steamin’” Friends turned ghosts, but they text sometimes Blue bubbles say “bro, I’m doin’ just fine” Next day, photo with a churchyard sign Fresh dirt, same verse, different last line I cough up clouds, think they float me home But I wake on tile, face cold as stone Pipe on the floor still warm, still glowin’ Heaven at the lip, hell where I’m goin’ [Chorus] Hit that glass, watch the angels cough Halo crack, all the wings fall off I been prayin’ to the lighter tip Every blessing just another hit [Chorus]

rap, Bleak horrorcore Memphis trap, detuned bells over murky bass and clipped 808s, swung hi-hats and vinyl hiss. Male vocals in a dead-eyed, low register; hook opens with doubled, slightly detuned voices and distant choir pads for a cult-like feel. Ad-libs buried, reverb heavy on snares, final chorus collapses into distorted, bit-crushed chaos.

Glass Pipe Gospel