[Intro: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Thirty squares on the kitchen wall.
Cross one out. Watch the balance fall.
Payday comes, then the numbers choose.
Thirty days until the rent is due.

[Verse 1: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Pay hits Friday, disappears by noon;
Rent takes the daylight, bills take the room.
Phone on minimum, heat turned low,
Bus card loaded with a week to go.
Ma marks each date with a dried-out pen,
One shift at dawn, then she clocks in again.
Food, light, medicine, money we owe;
Each dollar gets a job before it goes.

[Pre-Chorus: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Count it once, count it twice.
Cut the loaf, compare the price.
Every column ends the same:
Feed the house or heat the frame.

[Chorus: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Thirty days, thirty ways to divide,
One check for the debt and the hunger we hide.
Thirty days, every dollar gets chased,
Fees at the counter, due dates in our face.
Thirty days till the red ink comes through;
We work every day; still the rent comes due.

[Verse 2: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Day four, Ma's glasses need one new lens;
She says, "Next month," like next month bends.
Day eight, my hours get cut at the store;
The manager shrugs: "There is no budget for more."
Day twelve, Lila's school sends a fee;
Her mom pays half, then she borrows from me.
Day fifteen, the fridge leaks across the floor;
Northline marks it fixed. No one comes to the door.

[Chorus: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Thirty days, thirty ways to divide,
One check for the debt and the hunger we hide.
Thirty days, every dollar gets chased,
Fees at the counter, due dates in our face.
Thirty days till the red ink comes through;
We work every day; still the rent comes due.

[Verse 3: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Day twenty, Rafi writes our total in blue,
Lets the groceries ride till the next check comes through.
Day twenty-five, Ma sleeps dressed in her chair,
One shoe on the rug, bobby pins in her hair.
I cover her shoulders, turn down the light,
Then move the same three numbers all night.
Day twenty-eight, there's nothing left to trim;
The landlord calls it choice from an office warm and dim.

[Bridge: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Which one goes: the refill or the ride?
Which meal gets smaller so the rent stays on time?
No reckless weekend, no secret reserve,
Just hard choices between need and nerve.

[Instrumental Break][Muted guitar answers the three-note Rhodes figure over a stripped kick-and-bass groove, then the full drums return.]

[Final Chorus: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Thirty days, thirty ways to divide,
But shame belongs higher on the profit side.
Thirty days, every dollar gets chased,
While finished new towers hold dark empty space.
Thirty days, and the question cuts through:
Who keeps the trains moving? Who gets pushed from view?

[Outro: Narrator, Young Female Spoken]
Day thirty. Ma circles the first.
The calendar turns.
The numbers get worse.
