旋律
歌曲有多麼清晰易記且符合明確音樂模式的旋律。通常,旋律分明的作品會擁有清晰易記的器樂或人聲主線。
原聲音質
此指標衡量一首歌曲在多大程度上依賴原聲樂器 (例如鋼琴、吉他、小提琴、鼓、薩克斯風),而非電子或數位合成音效
Valence
歌曲透過和聲與節奏所傳達的音樂積極性或情感基調。數值高通常對應快樂、興奮或愉悅感,數值低則與悲傷、憤怒或憂鬱相關。
節奏感
綜合了節拍穩定性、節奏型態與重拍強度等多重因素,以判定一首歌曲適合跳舞的程度。一首「節奏感強」的歌曲,通常具備穩定的速度、重複的音樂結構與明顯的強拍。
輕快
曲目的律動感可能受節奏快慢、音量起伏與聲譜密度所影響。較輕快的歌曲通常節奏強勁,編曲豐滿;反之,不太輕快的歌曲則可能編曲簡約、節奏較慢。
BPM98
歌詞
Intro:
Keep your plans on the low
Just another chamber, the swarm
Roll dark and deep, Bobby Digital
Wu-Syndicate, Wu-syndicate
Be Born, Daddy-O, what up Math?
Mickey Mirrors, true blessings
For what, X Era
Takin it to the clear this year
{Myalansky}
Faggots nervous but it's time to dance with night strangers
Top rap don, cuz Daddy-O got me the dice game
It's reg or not, pockets love Trump Donald
Pack your work, move your plans to VA
Heat on the lock collar
Bite your fingerprints, make the cops nog you
98, wait, service applead, rated top dollar
Escape jake fakin plot alot hotter
Fake snakes smilin right in your face
Play this a lot smarter
{Joe Mafia}
Low avalanche, wobblely stance, ask for rain dance
We the same cats blazing your lab
Wu-Capone with a love jones, watch me son
Global with the local cats that's known trifted in the hell zone
Politic, modern Gotti click
Just a matter of time before till Wu-Syndicate lock shit
How you stoppin, mega popular, modern mobster
Joe Mafia, Jay got me in bicolulars
{Myalansky}
Yo snatch run, shoot out, chicken nights how's nice
Rule out, silk low valley, Mafia crew house
Drink vine, moon shine wine, sip it, fool out
Rollin wit a burner no doubt, shorty school out
First of all, for the record, Scarface jail cats
Cultured by stretch it but name it, rather socialize
Eyes never lies, these guys tell me throwing forty Cali's stainless
Cuz these empty slugs spit pain, killer
{Joe Mafia}
Wylin on parole, so been on his rock
And Donny race spot it's way hot
Son of a spray lock
Them mistress said it grazed his neck
Collapsing over bar rooms, holding his wounds
Yo what the fuck can it take?
Brokin glass fallin all on my head
Head ringin like Cyrus from bitches screamin
Blood on my leg
{Myalansky}
Let me catch my breath Glock appraise me
Feds chase me, toared my jabogs as I hopped the fence
Blood on my tongue taste it, son I was big off Remi
Even run to me, shorty run up in my spot, don't let
The clown kill me
High beam helicopter light flash through the blind
Cousin what a cat gon do, drippin a man's eye
Call down ya kids, smack the screamin bitch
Yo relax Myalansky, word it's that teeny snitch
{Joe Mafia}
What's the purpose, allerkin this search, street merchandist
Supeen service, here's dirt to cause the turbulence
With lip service, scape jay, down rob handcuff plant to his hand
The purchase of the yae yo, take a make though, it's blood money
Keep my hands muddy, rakin a lake ice with low money
Without a clue of what I wen't through
Plus been through, stressing the issue
Shell shocked, hidin the pistol
{Myalansky}
The next chapter from the Brooklyn Criminology
Should of bought my life in the business, catchin ??
We felony, keep tellin these cats get Bills like Bellamy
Empires get hit for their chips, you just follow me
Gravity, Myalansky, **** fancy
How real this could get when you're broke
Platinum down please, my fam scheme, fuck the po-po
Sayin 'do, Daddy-O, Joe Mafia, T-Bone
Make Corleone rush like Phat Farm
Strong armin withmax chrome
Cats know runnin the spot, claimin they clap though
Kidnap though, thrown to the hostage, I know this cat knew
Snap though, leavin them duct taped, glory was cancelled
It's pinzo, eleven o channel cut off his leg slow
He begged though, continued to throw it without info
Waterd down **** be frontin, obviously bitch missed since 6 grade
Plottin on ****, shinin their rich ways
Get switch bladed, bodies found decomposed, throwed in the ditch grave
Moms can't identify shit, was there for six weeks
With blood money, frontin out stick's peed
Quick way, fuck all the talkin this what my click say
Them bitch ate, sweeter than sugar pussy your dick faced
{Joe Mafia}
I answer this, many late nights, puffin on cancer sticks
On hell with this shit, sometimes I feel but I'm trapped in it
The x to the, amongst the projects with bang shooters
Hard rocks, skippin school to get their brains buddha'd
Lame chicks, filthy ass fiends to want the same vicks
Stick up cats, robbin for name kicks
Game flicks with low fooda
I'm forced to blast on these street soldiers with cold shoulders
It's hard god metafogics
Rumbled in the concrete jungle to stay humble
Make my brain tumble, rainin cocaine and rain bubbles
Fucking jiggy, we doin it low
Stay pissy, sippin g, straight henny gettin bussy with Wu-Synny
In the small city, either walk straight, chop weight
Heads talkin to much, sending my **** upstate
Ill fate, S U double F o to get shot alive what the F O
F o, f o, ****
Written by: Joe Mafia, Mathematics, Myalansky


