ENOUGH - Lyrics

Title: ENOUGH
Artist: Loui Crow
Streaming: All platforms
📱 TikTok/FB/Youtube/IG: @louicrow

🖤 ABOUT THE SONG — ENOUGH

This is a true story.
It’s the last time someone tried to rape me.

Ten men got away with it before this one. I used to go quiet. Freeze mode. Let my body take the hit so I could survive. Smile through it. Dissociate. Blame myself. Pray it would end fast. But this time—I stayed in my body. I reached for the knife. I let him in. But when the energy shifted, I didn’t freeze this time. I scanned. I stalled. I armed myself.

This one didn’t “get away with it.”
He got stopped.

I never saw him again after that night. I never told him what he did wrong. I didn’t scream, or report, or post his name. But I held the blade between us. I made him see it. I let him feel what no looks like when it has teeth.

This song is the version of me who finally said enough—and meant it.

🔥 CROW BODY-BREAKDOWN — What “ENOUGH” Really Is

ENOUGH is what freeze becomes when it remembers it has legs.
It’s the breath that didn’t run.
It’s what happens when the hunted gets tired of playing dead.

This isn’t about rage. It’s about presence.
About feeling your body when every part of you wants to leave it.
About hands that used to beg to be spared—now held steady.

This is the holy moment when silence picks up the blade.
Not to cut.
To protect.

To stay.

🗣️ Crow Affirmation:
“ This is not your kingdom.
I am not your victim.”

🖤 CROW TRUTH

A near-rape stopped by a kitchen knife.
And that’s the last time it ever happened.

(Scroll down for lyrics)

🩸 ABOUT THE ALBUM — GORGEOUS
 This is Track 5 of my debut album:
 GORGEOUS — a 16-song exorcism of rape culture, obedience training, beauty distortion, and the blueprint they buried in every girl who was told to stay quiet and look pretty.
 All true stories (blurred for safety).

A holy revolt in sixteen songs.
 Each track is a confession and a return.
 A scream in the throat of every woman who flinched and got told it was flirting.
 It’s the sound of memory with the volume all the way up.
 Not just what happened—what it did.

Track 1: GORGEOUS —
This was my first time.
 Not a date. Not a choice.
 Just a quiet bedroom and a drink I didn’t taste right.
 There was something in it—I couldn’t move.
 I couldn’t fight back.

They called me “Gorgeous” like it was a gift—
 But it was a cage, lined with glitter and shame.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t run. I just left late.
 He got to go home a man. I got called a mistake.

This song is the sound of the foam in the cup.
 The metronome chain on the ceiling fan.
 It’s the part of me that rose anyway.

Track 2: ON MY KNEES —
 I used to call it love, but it was fear wearing a dress.
 Smiling so he’d stop.
 They called me a tease when I froze.
 I said “yes” like it was the only safe word I had.
 Softened my voice to keep him sweet.
 Bit my tongue until it vanished.

This track is what the freeze becomes when it starts to thaw.
 The martyr voice they praise.
 The pretty mouth they use.

I wasn’t praying.
 I was gathering fire.

Track 3: REMEMBER I’M HIM — The predator’s prayer.
He calls it art. Says I’m his muse.
But the frame is a trap, and the crown is a gag.
His shutter writes scripture. My stillness is proof.
He tells the world I begged to be seen—
But the lens was a leash. The flash was a freeze.

Track 4: GRIP — When silence is survival. When God is the gag.
He said He’d kill her—and me—if she spoke.
So she vanished. Changed jobs. Let me think she ghosted.
But she was saving me.
This is the grip behind the prayer hands.
The bruise behind the joke.
What the skin remembers when the woman forgets.
What obedience looks like when it’s holy and haunted.

Track 5: ENOUGH — This was the last time someone tried to rape me.
 Ten men got away with it. I used to go limp.
 But this time I moved. This time I rose.
 He didn’t follow me home—I let him in.
 But I didn’t go quiet. I didn’t stay still.
 This time, I was the weapon.

The rest is coming.
 One song a week.
 Sixteen mirrors.
 Sixteen ghosts.
 Sixteen locks unlatching.
 GORGEOUS is the door.
 And I’m the one holding it open.

🎤 FULL LYRICS — ENOUGH

[Intro – Spoken Whisper]
He reached for my body again. I reached for the knife.
That’s the last time.

[Verse 1]
Fluorescents buzz like a threat on low—
Lookin’ at shirts, just stayin’ alone.
He walks up, talks ink on my skin,
Says I’m bold, then dips with a grin.
Pumpin’ gas—he’s there again.
Says, “Ride me to dinner? I’m meeting a friend.”
I say sure. We park. Just wait.
He checks his phone, says plans changed late.
“Wanna grab food? You seem cool.”
I nod. Swallow heat like a fool.
He rants—his ex was a leech, a lie.
I say mine made me wish I would die.
We swapped red flags like it made us safe.
Trauma bond shaped like a dinner plate.
It’s cold as sin. What girl leaves a man to the wind?
And I let him in.

[Hook]
Hands where I can see them.
Back where I don’t feel them.
This is not your kingdom.
I am not your victim.
I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough.
Hands off. Back up. I’ve had enough.
What part of that still wasn’t enough?

[Verse 2]
Now we’re in my space, my walls, my breath—
But the air turns sharp like a threat.
I’m starting to realize… he’s not leaving.
After small talk he tries to kiss me.
His hand slides up—like I asked for it… grip.
I shove him hard, but I can’t just dip.
My purse—on the counter, I scan, I stall—
Inch toward it, then hide it under.
Grip the blade from the kitchen drawer.
Tuck it low. Not prey, today I’m war.
He climbs again—I flash the steel.
That night I learned how no feels real.
Thought he was gone. Door sealed like a tomb.
Then the knob turns slow from inside the room.
No knock, just the twist of the handle—tick-tock.
I became silence inside the lock.
Tik Tok
Tik Tok

[Bridge]
Flashback flickers. Skin goes tight.
Hallway hums like a pilot light.
Twist that handle, I won’t fold.
Try that knock, my grip’s on hold.
You brought the war. I became the bomb.
I don’t need proof—I’ve felt enough.
Enough. Enough. Enough. Enough.

[Hook]
Hands where I can see them.
Back where I don’t feel them.
This is not your kingdom.
I am not your victim.
I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough.
Hands off. Back up. I’ve had enough.
What part of that still wasn’t enough?

[Outro]
“No more. Not this time. I’ll take your breath before you take mine.”