[Intro — bright acoustic strum, finger-snap rhythm, warm 808 sub rising, young voice clear and easy]

Loaded up on good intentions like they'd keep me bulletproof…

Didn't know the ones I loved were standin' in the line of proof.

[Verse 1 — smooth and warm, emotional grit on the heavy lines, 808 hits sync'd tight to downbeat kicks]

Woke up swingin' at the darkness down the bedroom hall,

Lover caught the ricochet before I hit the wall.

Didn't mean to turn my war into the air she had to breathe,

Didn't know the shrapnel traveled further than I'd grieve.

Depression handed me the rifle, said my enemy was near,

I pulled the trigger on the safest thing I had in me.

[Pre-Chorus — steel lick rising, heartbeat kick + locked 808 pulse lifting toward the hook]

Every round I fired blind came back and found the ones I choose,

Funny how the ones who love you are the ones you always lose.

[Chorus — full band erupts, infectious three-part harmony, melodic 808 slides + synchronized bass hits at 98 BPM]

Friendly fire burns the same as any other kind of flame,

Leaves the same kind of scar tissue, answers to the same name.

Mama didn't sign up for this war inside my chest,

Lover didn't volunteer to take the bullets with the rest.

Friends just wanted fishing trips and tailgates and the game,

Lord, the war ain't over, but I'm learning to be still.

[Verse 2 — groove tightens, trap-country bounce, 808 glides sync'd to snare/kick]

Twenty-eight and battle-weary from a fight nobody sees,

Shadow handing me excuses like a weapon on the breeze.

Turned my people into cover every time I felt the storm,

Called it passion, called it pressure, called it my own way,

I was always aiming inward but it hit them all instead.

[Bridge — stripped to voice and acoustic, finger-snap only, bright steel weeping]

Lord I'm tired of this caliber, tired of this weight,

Tired of apologizing at the wrong end of too late.

Want to lay the rifle down somewhere it can't be found,

Want to learn a different language than the barrel and the round.

I'm the sniper and the target and the hill and all the pine,

Time to turn the scope on something worth the firing line.

[Final Chorus —full band at peak groove, 808s soaring in sync with kicks]

Friendly fire fades the same as any other kind of smoke,

Given enough time and water what was burning can be soaked.

Mama's still beside me, lover's voicemail's still unsaved,

Friends are still out there somewhere past the damage that I've paved.

I'm a good man with a weapon I was handed, didn't choose,

But I'm learning where to aim it so I'm not the one who loses.

Words don't have to fire like bullets off the ridges of my tongue—

Lord, I'm settin' down the rifle—this fight's only just begun.

[Outro — acoustic strum fading, finger-snap slowing, warm 808 tail decaying, confident whisper]

Yeah… good man, bad aim.

Shadow handed me the gun.

Puttin' down the ammunition…

Lord, I think I'm done.