THE POT RUN HOT

Name: THE POT RUN HOT
Duration: 292 s
Description: THE POT RUN HOT by mBaileyz. From the artist’s lyric sheet: “You can't keep the gate wide open with the pot half-full, you can't pay for everybody when the budget…”

No artist release note is published for this song yet.

More listening destinations

YouTube Music Spotify artist page Apple Music artist page Deezer artist page UnitedMasters catalog

Words from the artist’s archive

THE POT RUN HOT lyrics

Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.

Read the lyric sheet

Intro

Publix at nine forty-seven, line bend round the aisle, math on the back of a 441 receipt for a while, mama said the pot stay full till the pot stay open, soon as everybody eat, somebody portion broken.

Verse 1

Carol City corner store, milk hit five seventy-nine, clerk void a WIC card, family of nine in the line, toll booth on the Turnpike eat a dollar and change, rent went up one twenty in the same coupon range. School over on 62nd got four kids to a desk, nurse stretched thin in Jackson, six hours for a test. Ain't nobody mad at the hands that came to eat, just the math hit different when the plate run out the meat. I-95 hum a sermon nobody wrote, city tryna float the boat with a hole in the boat.

Chorus

You can't keep the gate wide open with the pot half-full, you can't pay for everybody when the budget on a pull, somebody at the table gotta count what we got, 'cause the welfare and the open door make the system run hot. Run hot, run hot, the 305 run hot, the 954 say the same, ain't nothin we forgot.

Verse 2

Lauderhill apartment, ceiling fan and a prayer, Opa-Locka momma countin' coins for the fare. Allapattah barber say the rent went to twenty-two, Little Haiti landlord told the auntie what to do. Hospital hallway, fluorescent buzz on Tuesday, court date stamp on the eviction, eleven a.m. grey day. I ain't sayin' close the door, I'm sayin' read the ledger, ain't no shame in honesty when the table get smaller. Liberty City porch where the receipts run deep, the policy ain't free when the people don't sleep.

Chorus

Verse 3

Mirror in the bodega, reflection in the glass, talkin' loud about a country, ain't paid my gas. I voted with a feeling, I argued with a friend, ain't read the budget, ain't checked where the money spend. Truth ain't on the left or the right, it's on the receipt, truth ain't in the slogan, it's the kid that can't eat.

Verse 4

Bus stop on 79th, I'm done with the soft talk, the math hit the math, I ain't walkin' a soft walk. Schools choked, hospitals stretched, traffic on the Palmetto, every politician sellin' a slogan and a stiletto. Compassion is real but a country got a wall, not a brick wall, a budget wall, somebody gotta call. You feed every hand till the hand that fed you faint, that ain't kindness, that's a saint with the savings of a saint. Florida City to the Sawgrass, Perrine to the Pines, I love who showed up, but I'm honest 'bout the lines.

Chorus

Verse 5

Pops told me ledgers don't lie even when the heart do, mama said the soup feed who it can, not who you want it to. Pass it to my son on the porch in Goulds at dusk, two truths and a budget, that's the gift, that's the trust. Be kind, be honest, count the plates 'fore you serve, the country is a kitchen and the kitchen got a nerve.

Outro

Receipt on the counter, ceiling fan slow, that's the convo, that's the math, now you know.

Saved reading

Inside the recording

96 sampled loudness windows · 292 seconds. The white line follows the player; this is a local recording matched by title and duration, not a verified YouTube audio fingerprint.

↓ Save the sound print · scalable SVG

01 / The opening