[Intro] Granny said “Boy, keep your soul” I was staring at the screen Tryna chase that glow (uh) [Verse 1] Mama countin’ pennies at the stove line I was in the mirror tryna look rich the whole time Gold on my neck but my lights cut off Flex for the ‘Gram, can’t pay that cost Cousin did a bid, came back still broke Dreams in a bag, whole life in smoke They say “Make it out, just trust that road” But every sign I seen was “dead end” cold [Chorus] Everything that glitter ain’t gold (ain’t gold) Shinin’ on the outside, hurt in my bones (my bones) Smiles in the pictures, pain at home I’m black in America, carry that load Everything that glitter ain’t gold (ain’t gold) They love our rhythm, hate our tone (our tone) Pray for my people, pray for my own If I ever get rich, I ain’t sell my soul (nah) [Verse 2] Teacher said “College,” I was thinkin’ rent due Can’t chase a cap when the lights still blue Cop in my rearview, hand on his piece Wonder if he see my fears or a beast Label man talkin’ ‘bout chains and cars Said “Rap ‘bout violence, you’ll be a star” But my sister in the kitchen tryna pick her scars I can’t feed the fire that burned us hard [Chorus] Everything that glitter ain’t gold (ain’t gold) Shinin’ on the outside, hurt in my bones (so cold) Smiles in the pictures, pain at home I’m black in America, carry that load (carry that) Everything that glitter ain’t gold (ain’t gold) They love our rhythm, hate our tone (our tone) Pray for my people, pray for my own If I ever get rich, I ain’t sell my soul (never) [Bridge] Whole block chasin’ that quick fix New chain, same chain, same tricks (yeah) If all I get is this broke halo I’d rather die real than fake that glow [Chorus] Everything that glitter ain’t gold (ain’t gold) Shinin’ on the outside, hurt in my bones Smiles in the pictures, pain at home I’m black in America, carry that load Everything that glitter ain’t gold (ain’t gold) They love our rhythm, hate our tone Pray for my people, pray for my own If I ever get rich, I ain’t sell my soul (on God)

rap, Moody Southern trap with half-raspy male vocals, detuned bells and eerie pads over a slow, knocking 808 groove. Verses sit close and confessional, almost spoken, with sparse ad-libs and gritty texture; hook widens with layered doubles and subtle churchy background hum. Occasional drops where drums duck out to spotlight the vocal before slamming back in on key phrases., hip hop

Glitter Ain’t Gold