RICHIE... HOLD ON

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Description

Intro (Spoken)
(Rain falling, organ humming low)
Don’t paint me like I’m the hero.
Richie? He was the good one.
Me? I’m the reason brotherly love got stabbed in the dark.
Some men tell their story to get forgiven…
I tell mine so you can see what a man looks like
when the greed in his own heart eats him alive.
("A man’s worst enemy can live in his own chest…")

Verse 1
Richie was the type to hold a man up when the streets bent his spine,
Had fake friends smiling wide, couldn’t see they were thieves in disguise.
("Jealousy turns friends into ghosts…")
He asked me to build with him — I’d be the brain, he’d be the bankroll,
But I was still that boy in a man’s skin, living hand-to-mouth, playing small.
I had my woman, her mama’s roof, love felt like it was enough,
Blind to the truth that a pot to piss in still needs a window to throw it from.
("Self first is self last…")
Richie saw my hunger, saw the dust on my dreams,
But I thought brotherly love was just talking, not bleeding for the team.
("Brotherly love can’t live in a selfish house…")
And pride whispered in my ear like a serpent in silk,
“Don’t let no friend be your boss, you worth more than that guilt.”
So I nodded at his offer but my soul stayed still,
Didn’t see the bridge he was building — only saw the hill.
("Greed don’t need a reason — it just needs a door…")

Chorus
Richie… hold on…
Sorry can’t fix everything,
And sometimes only a stiff cold dead body will bring peace.
("Envy is love’s funeral…")
Richie… hold on…
I didn’t know what brotherly love was,
Until I killed it with my own hands and left it in the street.
("Jealous eyes see shadows where there’s light…")

Verse 2
See, my woman was in college, chasing books and bigger things,
I knew deep down I couldn’t give her the kingdom she dreamed.
("A full hand can’t give…")
So instead of leveling up, I lit matches in my own house,
Pushed her ‘til she hated me, so she’d walk out with no doubt.
That way I could blame myself, wear the villain’s crown proud,
And never have to face her leaving me when the silence got loud.
Meanwhile, Richie’s plan was still there, waiting,
And I’m still resenting the man who tried to hand me my greatness.
("Greed is hunger that never sleeps…")
I told myself I needed college, law books, the whole arsenal,
Truth is, I was just scared to carry something that big and possible.
A man without confidence is a weapon turned inward,
And I carved my own soul with every “no” I whispered.
("The more you grab, the less you hold…")

Chorus
Richie… hold on…
Sorry can’t fix everything,
And sometimes only a stiff cold dead body will bring peace.
("Jealousy cuts deeper than a bullet…")
Richie… hold on…
I didn’t know what brotherly love was,
Until I killed it with my own hands and left it in the street.
("Greed don’t build — it eats…")

Verse 3
Then came the money… Richie’s money.
I told myself I wasn’t stealing, just borrowing till the wind changed,
But money’s a strange drug — and discipline don’t grow in weak soil.
("Gold in the pocket, rust in the soul…")
Every time I dipped in that pot, I swore it was the last time,
But temptation’s a crooked preacher and my hands were the choir.
Richie found out… and the ground between us split,
I worked for less pay just to patch the rip,
But the curse was still in me,
And with the keys in my hand, I opened that same dark door again.
That’s why I roll solo now — I’ve seen my own reflection,
The greed, the jealousy, the selfish vampire sleeping in my chest.
("Brotherly love can’t live in a selfish house…")
If peace ever comes between us, it won’t be in a handshake…
It’ll be in something cold, final,
The kind of payment you make when the debt’s too big for paper.
("Self first is self last…")

Final Chorus (Slower, Whispered)
Richie… hold on…
Sorry can’t fix everything,
And sometimes only a stiff cold dead body will bring peace.
("Greed is hunger that never sleeps…")
Richie… hold on…
I didn’t know what brotherly love was,
Until I killed it with my own hands and left it in the street.
("Envy is love’s funeral…")

Outro (Spoken)
If you hear this, Richie…
It’s not an apology, it’s an autopsy.
I’m not asking you to forgive me.
I’m just leaving the truth on the table,
So no one can say they didn’t see what I really am.
("A man’s worst enemy can live in his own chest…")
11 August 2025 at 2:43 am