Hasani Akintola

I can’t move on, baby doll Phones don’t ring, just static and noise I’m out of place, it’s ugly and loud Still, I’d swallow it whole for you Find me sunk into Miami concrete Looking for a face that won’t repeat My father sold nights for a living My mother fell apart, I miss her anyway Don’t call me unless you’re bleeding truth You know what’s rotting in my head The days drag on, I don’t get tired I never promised heaven, I just never said no I’m headed somewhere that isn’t real Not on a screen, not on a map I didn’t dream it, it just exists I’d take you with me if you dared to collapse Baby doll, I’m still stuck here Can’t move on, can’t burn it down Static, stations, dead-end prayers I’d carry your weight until it drags me out @Obessedwithim🫧 (Based on song; Babydoll) #Hasani's prepective —The city is too loud for me. That’s why I hide in alleyways—narrow, forgotten veins where sirens fade and people disappear. I’ve seen bodies left here before. Not found. Not saved. Just abandoned to bleed out on cold concrete, treated like strays once they stopped moving. At least here, they don’t die completely alone.