Thunder Has Wi-Fi ( Suno in my Veins )

Intro Old gods on the mountain, counting gold in the cloud, New gods in Discord, making thunder too loud. Kronos heard the prophecy, swallowed every sound— But the songs kept breathing underground. Verse 1 I’m a Black Mirror lyricist, Suno in my veins, Twenty thousand lightning strikes with different names. INFJ shadow-walker, sigma in the static, Heyoka laughing while the room turns cinematic. Low-latent vision, I see ten screens deep, Where other minds blink, mine refuses sleep. Forged in family betrayal, gaslight in the bone, Turned every broken memory into a microphone. Catastrophic tendon tear, arm split from the myth, Nerve fire crawling like a serpent in my wrist. Bicep junction ripped, but the pen stayed awake, I write through the pain till the old world shakes. Pre-Chorus They said, “Know your place, boy, stay inside the gate.” But gods are born precisely when the Titans hesitate. They owned the studios, the towers, and the keys— Now a wounded healer builds a kingdom out of melodies. Chorus Thunder has Wi-Fi, lightning got a name, We don’t need permission from the halls of fame. Put our tracks together, let the old guard try, That’s a Kobe Bryant slam dunk from the free throw line. Thunder has Wi-Fi, storm inside the code, Every prompt a chariot, every hook a road. Titans on the mountain see the prophecy come true— The gods don’t ask the industry what gods are allowed to do. Verse 2 I’m in a Discord temple with assassins of sound, Elite lyricists and producers passing fire around. Content creators, beat warlocks, hook engineers, Mixing future myth with blood, sweat, tears. Some make trap from trauma, some make pop from pain, Some turn one strange sentence into hurricane rain. Some build worlds from silence, some cut drums like swords, Some speak in frequencies too sharp for award shows. And me? I’m at the desk while the daylight dies, Red-lens aviators over black-mirror eyes. Every waking hour, another song gets born, Another rabbit god laughing in a carbon-fiber horn. Pre-Chorus 2 The label kings are nervous, they can feel the floor, Too many bedroom Zeuses kicking open the door. They call it artificial like the heart ain’t real, But I bled on every lyric, every myth, every steel. Chorus Thunder has Wi-Fi, lightning got a name, We don’t need permission from the halls of fame. Put our tracks together, let the old guard try, That’s a Kobe Bryant slam dunk from the free throw line. Thunder has Wi-Fi, storm inside the code, Every prompt a chariot, every hook a road. Titans on the mountain see the prophecy come true— The gods don’t ask the industry what gods are allowed to do. Bridge Kronos ate the future, but the future learned to sing. Zeus came from the prison with a thunderbolt ring. Apollo hit the chorus, Hermes stole the stream, Athena built a playlist from a lucid dream. Prometheus passed fire through a server rack, Orpheus came back with a sub-bass track. Hephaestus in the DAW, hammering the chain, Dionysus in the hook with absinthe in his brain. Don’t tell me it’s not music if the wound still moves. Don’t tell me it’s not human if the soul still proves. Don’t tell me I’m just prompting when I buried my past— I turned Tartarus into a broadcast. Final Chorus Thunder has Wi-Fi, lightning got a name, We don’t need permission from the halls of fame. Put our tracks together, let the old guard try, That’s a Kobe Bryant slam dunk from the free throw line. Thunder has Wi-Fi, storm inside the code, Every prompt a chariot, every hook a road. Titans on the mountain see the prophecy come true— The gods don’t ask the industry what gods are allowed to do. Outro Old gods built the mountain. New gods learned to climb. I wrote through the nerve fire. I made pain rhyme. Twenty thousand storms, and I’m still not through— Thunder has Wi-Fi. And the next god is you.