Grid locked. Clock ticking. Clean cuts. Sharp friction. You watch the line. I make the rule. Zero emotion. A heavy tool. Step back. Keep distance. Cold heat. Pure resistance. Bite the rhythm. Taste the dirt. No apologies. Nobody hurt. But when the walls start to crack! No turning back, no turning back! We bleed the circuit dry! Look me in the eye! We burn the frame tonight! Strobe light. Hard angle. Wire tight. Cold tangle. Bass heavy. Drums dominant. This posture is prominent. Clipped phrase. Sharp accent. Calculated. No accident. You hear the hit? You feel the sting? I am the lock. I am the king. But when the walls start to crack! No turning back, no turning back! We bleed the circuit dry! Look me in the eye! We burn the frame tonight! Grid locked. Clock ticking. Zero emotion. The circuit is dry.
