Ayo— Step in the room and the room get tense One horn stab, now the whole place bent (what!) (uh!) Bumrush mode here we come, here we come Bumrush mode—hands up, no silence Bumrush mode—bring it with the violence Bumrush mode—here we come, here we come I don’t need a big talk, I need a big drum Snare crack clean like a fist through slum I’m the “no seat” type—stand up, get live Make the floor shake first, then the crowd decide My pen stay rude, but the aim stay true No bedtime rap, this is straight-through-you I done seen fake kings with paper crowns One rainstorm and they all fall down We move in a pack like “make room—quick” Bars hit hard like the door got kicked If you came for a vibe, better brace for the shove This that loud city love, this that roughneck hug I don’t swing on folks, I swing on beats Leave dents in the loop where my breath repeats Hunger talk slick, but I talk mean I’m the reason the DJ pull it back—“rewind, please” Hold that— When the kick step in, don’t flinch When the snare snap off, don’t blink We don’t “maybe” in this lane, we commit One more notch, then the whole spot lift Bumrush mode—hands up, no silence Bumrush mode—bring it with the violence (violence in the sound) (violence in the drums) Bumrush mode—here we come, here we come Bumrush mode—hands up, no silence Bumrush mode—bring it with the violence Stomp two times, let the bassline talk Bumrush mode—watch the whole room rock Yo, we rush the groove, not the people—clear But the pressure in my voice make the speakers fear I’m a problem on wax, I’m a cough in the smoke One line, crowd jump like a rope got broke My squad move tight, we don’t pose for a pic We make the lens shake when the kick drum hit No choir notes, just alleyway hymns Where the truth stay short and the nights stay grim I spit like “get back,” but it’s all for the art Turn a bad week into a loud fresh start They want soft edges—nah, I keep it jagged ‘Cause life ain’t smooth when your rent get savage Cut from the same cloth as the streetlight buzz I don’t need luck, I got teeth, I got love When the hook come back, it’s a stamp on the set You forget my face? You won’t forget this chant Say it with your chest, not your feed Say it with your steps, not your need If the world feel cold, we make heat in the mix One bar, one drop—watch the crowd get fixed (uh!) We don’t fade, we don’t fold We turn that pressure into gold Bumrush mode—hands up, no silence Bumrush mode—bring it with the violence (violence in the sound) (violence in the drums) Bumrush mode—here we come, here we come Bumrush mode—hands up, no silence Bumrush mode—bring it with the violence Stomp two times, let the bassline talk Bumrush mode—watch the whole room rock, whole room rock When the lights come on, we still standin’ When the dust settle, that chant still bangin’ Bumrush mode—one last pullback— (yo… run that.)
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