[Intro | radio static into beat drop] Tune in... this is Midrust Radio... [Verse 1 | confident storytelling, consistent cadence] Now the label goes live, we crack open the air, Turn the booth into a street corner, truth humming there, W H P D, old backbone in the wall, Mics on like porch lights when the whole block calls. From orphan hands to voices skimming over the waves, Midrust on the dial, loud enough to save, Hard-hitting tracks in the rack, spinning day through day, Pulling the youth in close with the words we can say. [Pre-Chorus | building hype] Signal up—listen close. Message hits, then the hook explodes. [Chorus | Haiku style] Needle hits the groove, Midrust carries the plain truth, Orphans take the mic. [Verse 2 | fast energetic close] Turn it up louder, hear the room shake awake, From shelter steps to studio tape on the take, W H P D struck the first match in the dark, Now Midrust runs hot like a train through the spark. [Bridge | triumphant, slower then explode] This station is ours... you can hear it in the wires... [Outro | ad-libs and fading radio effect] Midrust Radio... still on... we speak...
