Pressure on my chest, it’s a part of the code, Grip on the rhythm, let the venom explode, No crown on my name but I carry that load,

Run through the system like a glitch in the mode. Ground shakes heavy when I move through dirt, Every small scar turn a reason to assert, Truth cut deep, yeah it’s more than it hurt, Built my own path from the blood and the work. Backstreet murmurs, can’t drown that hum, Pulse stay sharp while the others go numb, Cold-tone talk from the side they drum, Still I ride solo till the outcome come. Rust-stained boots mark codes on the floor, No guide needed, I invent the lore, Tension in the beat like a locked-in war, Heart never soft, it’s a loaded core. Words hit quick like a kick through the chest, No time wasted, no fake confess,

Chain of my sins I wear as a vest, Each wrong move taught me what’s best. Low bass crawl when I breathe this tone, Frost in my veins but the will full-grown, Built from the dirt, yeah I claim my zone, Underground spirit, forever my throne.