[Verse 1] {808s are kicking in the trunk,
waking up the neighbors with the funk.
The concrete cracking underneath the tires,
setting the city streets on fire.|Walking through the smoke and laser beams,
living inside vivid lucid dreams.
The sub-bass rattling the ribcage bones,
sitting on the speaker like a throne.|Gold chains flashing in the strobe light,
we own the middle of the night.
The hustle never stops, the grind is real,
gripping the leather of the steering wheel.|Gritty textures on a dirty beat,
shuffling the rhythm of the feet.
The underground is calling out our name,
we're taking over the entire game.|Red cups raising to the ceiling high,
watching the sparks fly in the sky.
The energy is manic, raw and loose,
sipping on the electric juice.|Bass face twisting in the dark,
waiting for the lighting of the spark.
The monster is awake and on the prowl,
listening to the deep engine growl.|Hoodies up and shadows on the wall,
waiting for the final hammer fall.
The silence is a weapon we can use,
lighting the long and winding fuse.|Glitch in the system, code is wrong,
making the night feel twice as long.
The cyborgs rising from the factory floor,
kicking down the metal door.|Sirens wailing in the distance far,
leaning against the shiny car.
The danger is the flavor that we taste,
moving with a frantic kind of haste.|Syrup thick and rhythm moving slow,
telling the people where to go.
The trap is set, the bait is on the hook,
giving the world a dirty look.|Alien signals from deep space,
landing in this abandoned place.
The frequency is high, the bass is low,
putting on a frantic light show.|Headbangers gripping on the rail,
wind is catching in the solar sail.
We voyage to the center of the sound,
burying the anchor in the ground.|Filthy basslines dripping slime,
committing the perfect sonic crime.
The evidence is ringing in your ear,
removing every trace of fear.|Diamonds dancing on the wrist,
moving through the purple mist.
The luxury is mixing with the grime,
transcending space and transcending time.|Graffiti tags on subway trains,
chemicals rushing through the veins.
The urban jungle is the habitat,
wondering where the head is at.|Speakers blown and circuits fried,
nowhere left to run and hide.
The volume knob is broken off the deck,
keeping the impulses in check.|Mosh pit forming in the center ring,
waiting for the chaotic vibe to sting.
The bodies colliding in the heat,
moving to the raw, chaotic beat.|Darkness falling like a velvet drape,
planning the ultimate escape.
The bass is the vehicle we drive,
the only way to stay alive.|Robotic voices speak in code,
driving down the digital road.
The algorithm set the trap,
caught inside the rhythmic rap.|Snare rolls ticking like a bomb,
destroying the momentary calm.
The countdown started hours ago,
moving fast and moving slow.|Gas mask on and vision blurred,
hanging on every single word.
The apocalypse is looking bright,
burning through the middle night.|Hydraulics bouncing up and down,
kings of the final underground.
The low end theory is the law,
jaw dropping to the floor in awe.|Laser cutters slicing through the air,
vanishing without a care.
The photons dancing in the dust,
crumbling iron and the rust.|Shadow boxing with a phantom ghost,
raising a dark and final toast.
The spirits are awake and listening,
the sweat on the skin is glistening.|Subwoofer breathing in and out,
removing every shadow of a doubt.
The pressure wave is hitting hard,
playing the final trump card.|Wobble bass is taking control,
digging a deep and silent hole.
We're falling in, we're never coming back,
staying on the winding track.|Click-clack sound of the gun,
the revolution has begun.
The musical weapon is the beat,
taking back the city street.|Golden grill and fearless smile,
stretching for a country mile.
The attitude is sharp and cold,
stories that are new and old.|Broken glass on the dance floor,
screaming out and asking for more.
The chaotic energy is pure,
the music is the only cure.|Synthesizer screaming pain,
washing away the bitter stain.
The distortion is a friendly face,
winning the eternal race.|Black light glowing on the teeth,
looking at what lies beneath.
The skeleton is dancing now,
wiping the sweat from the brow.|Metal mixing with the bass,
running the final sonic race.
The genre bending in the hand,
traveling to a distant land.|System overload, critical fail,
wind is tearing at the sail.
We're going down, we're going deep,
secrets that we have to keep.|Snapback hat and baggy clothes,
where it leads nobody knows.
The fashion is the armor here,
blocking out the sudden fear.|Vibrato shaking the foundation,
rocking the entire nation.
The earthquake is a welcome guest,
putting the structure to the test.|Sample chopped and screwed and bent,
wondering where the money went.
The collage of a fractured mind,
leaving logic far behind.|Oscillator drift and pitch,
scratching the eternal itch.
The modulation is the key,
setting the captive spirit free.|Crowd surfing on a sea of hands,
traveling to distant lands.
The human wave is rising high,
reaching for the open sky.|Double cup and tired eyes,
watching the smoke begin to rise.
The atmosphere is thick and sweet,
moving to the tempo of the street.}

[Pre-Chorus] {Build it up, tear it down,
the loudest sound in the town.
The pressure gauge is in the red,
get out of your mortal head.|Can you feel the ground begin to shake?
How much more can the speakers take?
The limit line is crossed and gone,
we're going till the break of dawn.|Wait for it, hold the breath,
dancing on the edge of death.
The drop is hanging in the air,
vanishing without a care.|Hands up high, touch the roof,
searching for the absolute proof.
The energy is spiking fast,
making the final moment last.|Sirens blaring, warning sign,
crossing the yellow line.
The danger zone is where we live,
giving all we have to give.|Accelerate the snare roll now,
wiping the sweat from off the brow.
The tension wire is pulling tight,
ready to explode tonight.|Frequency is rising steep,
waking from the endless sleep.
The pitch is climbing to the peak,
the strong are protecting the weak.|Are you ready for the rumble?
Let the massive bassline crumble.
The walls are shaking, floor is weak,
listening to the future speak.|One, two, three, jump!
The adrenaline sudden pump.
The chemical reaction starts,
connecting all the broken hearts.|Silence falls, the eye of the storm,
the air is getting thick and warm.
Brace for impact, here it comes,
thumping all your fingers and thumbs.|Spinning faster, out of control,
the music taking complete toll.
Surrender to the surging weight,
accepted by the hands of fate.|Lock and load, take the shot,
giving it everything we've got.
The target is the center mass,
shattering the window glass.|Wobble building, getting sick,
the heartbeat of the lunatic.
The insanity is creeping in,
shedding off the second skin.|Run the trap, run the game,
nothing will ever be the same.
The hierarchy is broken down,
the king is wearing the crown.|Breath in deep, let it out,
scream and twist and jump and shout.
The release is coming, almost here,
wiping away the sudden fear.}

[Instrumental]

[Chorus] {Drop the bass, feel the face.
Disappearing without a trace.
Filthy, dirty, nasty, mean,
the grimiest sound you've ever seen.|Trap arms, gold charms.
Setting off the fire alarms.
808s and heartbreaks,
doing whatever it takes.|Wobble low, sudden blow.
The undertow is moving slow.
Dubstep rhythm, vital weight,
accepted by the hands of fate.|Headbanger, danger zone.
Sitting on the speaker throne.
Neck brace needed, railing hard,
playing in the junkyard.|Run the streets, kill the beats.
Shuffling on the concrete streets.
The hustle is the way of life,
cutting through it like a knife.|Laser beam, fever dream.
Bursting at the digital seam.
Neon lights and purple smoke,
waiting for the silence to be broke.|Sub-bass low, moving slow.
Telling the people where to go.
Vibrating the chest and soul,
making the broken spirit whole.|Grime and grit, mosh pit.
Throwing a wild, chaotic fit.
The energy is violence,
breaking the brittle silence.|Money stacking, speakers cracking.
Nothing that we are lacking.
Gold and diamonds, dirt and dust,
in the bass we put our trust.|Bass cannon, fire at will.
Moving in for the final kill.
The impact hitting like a train,
washing away the surging pain.|Glitch hop, non-stop.
Rising to the mountain top.
The broken beat is fixed again,
remembering the way and when.|Filth and fury, judge and jury.
Moving in a frantic hurry.
The verdict is a guilty plea,
setting the captive spirit free.|Turn up, burn up.
Overflowing the plastic cup.
The party never ends in here,
erasing every single fear.|Riddim chop, never stop.
Waiting for the final drop.
The repetitive and hypnotic sound,
burying the anchor in the ground.|Gangsta lean, machine.
The cleanest ride you've ever seen.
Bouncing on the hydraulics,
addictive like the alcoholics.}

[Instrumental]

[Verse 2] {Second round, loud sound.
The treasure that we finally found.
Reload the clip and fire again,
remembering the way and when.|Sweat is dripping on the floor,
screaming out and asking for more.
The dehydration setting in,
shedding off the second skin.|Elbows up, make some room,
chasing away the sense of gloom.
The mosh pit is a living thing,
making the rafters ring.|Bass face twisted, ugly, mean,
the filthiest sight you've ever seen.
It smells like victory and sweat,
a night that we will not forget.|Looking for the rail to break,
how much more can the barrier take?
The pressure pushing from the back,
staying on the manic track.|Sampling old horror flicks,
getting the daily sonic fix.
The scream is looped and pitched down low,
making the river flow.|Distortion on the master channel,
wearing the thick flannel.
The grunge is mixing with the bass,
disappearing without a trace.|White noise sweep, diving deep,
secrets that we have to keep.
The static clears the mental slate,
opening the pearly gate.|Chopped vocals, stuttering,
the engine starts sputtering.
The glitch is part of the design,
crossing the yellow line.|Half-time rhythm, double speed,
planting the erratic seed.
The time signature starts to drift,
creating a tectonic shift.|Gun fingers in the air,
vanishing without a care.
The salute to the wicked sound,
lifting the people off the ground.|Smoke machine is working hard,
obscuring the security guard.
We are invisible in here,
removing every trace of fear.|Sidechain pumping, breathing deep,
waking up from endless sleep.
The pulse is linked to the kick,
the heartbeat of the lunatic.|High hats ticking like a clock,
waiting for the final shell shock.
The precision is mechanical,
the feeling is botanical.|Reese bass tearing through the mix,
getting the daily sonic fix.
The texture is a rusty saw,
obeying only rhythm's law.|Arpeggios are climbing high,
reaching for the open sky.
The notes are falling like the rain,
washing away the surging stain.|Feedback loops are screaming loud,
rising above the digital cloud.
The noise is music to the ear,
chasing away the sudden fear.|Resonance is peaking sharp,
plucking the electric harp.
The filter sweep is cutting through,
painting the picture in blue.|Vocal chops are pitching up,
overflowing the plastic cup.
The melody is sweet and sick,
a wicked and dangerous trick.|Layer upon layer of grime,
committing the perfect sonic crime.
The evidence is everywhere,
vanishing into thin air.}

[Bridge] {Slow it down, creep it low.
Watch the quiet river flow.
The atmosphere is getting dark,
waiting for the vital spark.|Spooky sounds and eerie keys,
floating on the gentle breeze.
The haunted house is open now,
wipe the sweat from off the brow.|Cinematic tension building,
the structure we are guilding.
The movie score to the end of days,
lost inside the smoky maze.|Silence is the loudest noise,
put away the broken toys.
The monster is breathing in the dark,
waiting to leave a final mark.|A single piano note rings out,
removing every shadow of a doubt.
The contrast is a beautiful thing,
making the spirit finally sing.|Wind is howling in the street,
syncing with the steady beat.
The storm is coming, almost here,
making everything crystal clear.|Whispers in the reverb tail,
wind is catching in the sail.
We're drifting on a sea of black,
there is no way of turning back.|Suspended in a beam of light,
waiting for the second flight.
The gravity is failing now,
wipe the sweat from off the brow.|Clanking chains and grinding gears,
playing on the deepest fears.
The industrial machine is awake,
how much more can the system take?|Filter closing, dark and deep,
rocking the weary soul to sleep.
But one eye opens in the night,
ready for the second fight.|Melody is sad and slow,
telling the people where to go.
The pathos is a vital weight,
accepted by the hands of fate.|Atmospherics thin and cold,
stories that are new and old.
The ambient texture fills the room,
chasing away the sudden gloom.|Wait for the build, wait for the rise.
Look into the future's eyes.
It's coming back, it's coming strong,
it won't be waiting very long.|Connect the wires, patch the cord.
Thanking the electric lord.
The circuit is completed now,
wipe the sweat from off the brow.|A voice speaks out from the void,
the signal is not destroyed.
It says one word: "Run,"
the revolution has begun.}

[Instrumental]

[Chorus] {Drop the bass, feel the face.
Disappearing without a trace.
Filthy, dirty, nasty, mean,
the grimiest sound you've ever seen.|Trap arms, gold charms.
Setting off the fire alarms.
808s and heartbreaks,
doing whatever it takes.|Wobble low, sudden blow.
The undertow is moving slow.
Dubstep rhythm, vital weight,
accepted by the hands of fate.|Headbanger, danger zone.
Sitting on the speaker throne.
Neck brace needed, railing hard,
playing in the junkyard.|Run the streets, kill the beats.
Shuffling on the concrete streets.
The hustle is the way of life,
cutting through it like a knife.|Laser beam, fever dream.
Bursting at the digital seam.
Neon lights and purple smoke,
waiting for the silence to be broke.|Sub-bass low, moving slow.
Telling the people where to go.
Vibrating the chest and soul,
making the broken spirit whole.|Grime and grit, mosh pit.
Throwing a wild, chaotic fit.
The energy is violence,
breaking the brittle silence.|Money stacking, speakers cracking.
Nothing that we are lacking.
Gold and diamonds, dirt and dust,
in the bass we put our trust.|Bass cannon, fire at will.
Moving in for the final kill.
The impact hitting like a train,
washing away the surging pain.|Glitch hop, non-stop.
Rising to the mountain top.
The broken beat is fixed again,
remembering the way and when.|Filth and fury, judge and jury.
Moving in a frantic hurry.
The verdict is a guilty plea,
setting the captive spirit free.|Turn up, burn up.
Overflowing the plastic cup.
The party never ends in here,
erasing every single fear.|Riddim chop, never stop.
Waiting for the final drop.
The repetitive and hypnotic sound,
burying the anchor in the ground.|Gangsta lean, machine.
The cleanest ride you've ever seen.
Bouncing on the hydraulics,
addictive like the alcoholics.}

[Outro] {Lights out, game over.
Rolling in the silent clover.
The winner takes the final prize,
looking into the future's eyes.|Smoke clears, the floor is wet.
A night that we will not forget.
Ringing ears and tired feet,
walking down the silent street.|The police sirens fade away,
living to fight another day.
The underground is safe and sound,
buried deep in the ground.|Fade to black, disconnect.
Showing the rhythm some respect.
The service is terminated now,
take a final, sweeping bow.|Walk away, don't look back.
Staying on the winding track.
The city sleeps, but we're awake,
for goodness and for heaven's sake.|Static on the radio,
nowhere left for us to go.
The signal is fading in the noise,
put away the broken toys.|Ghost in the machine is dead,
silence in the quiet head.
The bass is sleeping in the wood,
misunderstood but understood.|The sun is rising in the east,
taming the nocturnal beast.
The vampires hiding from the light,
waiting for another night.|Echoes bouncing off the wall,
answering the siren call.
The reverb tail is long and wide,
a cavern where the secrets hide.|Shutdown sequence, power down.
The quietest sound in the town.
The hard drive spinning to a stop,
the final needle drop.}