Smoking in a Thunderstorm HipHop Noir Version

[Intro] (Are we still pretending this ain’t beautiful? Sometimes you gotta let the storm come through you.) [Verse 1] I pour another glass of lightning, let it c***h against the windowsill. These conversations go in circles— we keep sayin’ things we don’t feel. We talk hope but we walk backward, we want love but we want free. It’s a dangerous combination, baby, storm warnings follow you and me. We keep running from the sunrise like the shadows keep us safe. You told me heaven wasn’t real, but you still pray just in case. Every moment feels like thunder, every secret feels the same— you can d***n inside the silence when you whisper my name. [Hook] So we’re smoking in a thunderstorm, laughing through the rain. Playing with our shadows like we never felt the pain. We sparkle when we’re shattered, every memory torn apart. If the storm don’t d***n our sorrows, we’ll just d***n them in the dark. [Verse 2] The skyline feels like crime scenes and my heart’s the one in chains. You said loving me was p****n, but you drank me just the same. We stay close like broken mirrors, cutting deep but shining right. We were better when we were chaos, we were perfect in the night. Lightning writes our names across the rooftops and the sky. I don’t heal, I just survive— maybe that’s the reason why. Maybe heartbreak wasn’t tragic, maybe losing wasn’t wrong. Maybe we were born for storms so the world could sing along. [Pre Hook] Pour another glass. Let it spark. We only learn love when we fall apart. [Hook 2] So we’re smoking in a thunderstorm, laughing through the rain. Playing with our shadows like we never felt the pain. We sparkle when we’re shattered, every memory torn apart. If the storm don’t d***n our sorrows, we’ll just d***n them in the dark. [Jazz Guitar Solo] [Bridge] Maybe breaking wasn’t tragic, maybe losing wasn’t wrong. Some things fall apart in pieces just to show where they belong. Let the thunder write our story, let the lightning say our names. We were never made for sunshine, we were born for storms and flames. [Final Hook] So we’re smoking in a thunderstorm, b*****g laughter in the rain. We’re the poets of the wreckage, and we never broke in vain. If the night don’t wash us clean now, we’ll just set the world on fire. We were better when we shattered and we never lost desire. [Outro] (And the storm keeps our secrets safe.)