[Intro - Rain Sound FX, Street Ambience, Melancholic Accordion, Low Spoken Monologue] (Spoken - thick UK accent, cold & calm) "Lygon Street... eighteen-carat gold and Italian silk. They called him the Black Prince... First blood in the Melbourne war." [Verse 1 - Slow Heavy Lofi Boom-Bap Drums, Deep Subby Upright Bass, Dusty Scratching] Tailored suit in the nightclub, glass in his hand, Alphonse Gangitano running Lygon Street land. Silk shirt, gold chain, temper on the trigger, Thinking he was king, but the shadows grew bigger. Ninety-five hit, Greg Workman on the floor, A dead man lying right beside the party door. The Carlton Crew heavyweights holding up the crown, Before the Melbourne streets went completely upside down. Didn't see the shift, didn't notice the rise, Looking at the world through cold-blooded eyes. Found in his Templestowe home on the floor, The Black Prince fell, and the city wanted more. [Pre-Chorus - Snikkende Jordaan Accordion & Heavy Turntable Scratches] (Scratch: "Black Prince... Lygon Street king!") First shot fired in the gangland clash, High-end tailoring buried in the ash! [Chorus - Melancholic Accordion, Swelling Hammond Organ, Heavy Boom-Bap Groove] THE BLACK PRINCE FELL, NOW THE STREETS RUN COLD! First chapter of the war that the city never told! From Lygon Street cafes to a bullet in the dark, Leaving on the pavement an indelible mark! Yeah, THE BLACK PRINCE, THE CROWN TORE APART! (Scratch: "Carlton Crew... first shot in the heart...") An empire crumbling right before it could start! [Verse 2 - Grime-Influenced Heavy Pocket Groove, Dark Low Brass Stabs, Sub-Bass] Walking into the bistro, pool cue in his grip, Never let an insult or a rival remark slip. Arrogance thick as the smoke in the lounge, Where the old-school mobsters used to gather and lounge. Thought his crew was immortal, thought the status was set, Unaware of the storm that the syndicate met. Blood on the carpet, thirty-two slug, An execution style hidden right beneath the rug. No witnesses talking, the silence was tight, Leaving Templestowe locked in the cold winter night. [Chorus - Melancholic Accordion, Swelling Hammond Organ, Heavy Boom-Bap Groove] THE BLACK PRINCE FELL, NOW THE STREETS RUN COLD! First chapter of the war that the city never told! From Lygon Street cafes to a bullet in the dark, Leaving on the pavement an indelible mark! Yeah, THE BLACK PRINCE, THE CROWN TORE APART! (Scratch: "Carlton Crew... first shot in the heart...") An empire crumbling right before it could start! [Bridge - Bare Double Bass, Muffled Piano & Finger Snaps] (Spoken - rhythmic, intense) "Sixteen-to-one... the odds shifted fast. The old guard fell first. And Melbourne was never the same again." [Chorus - Melancholic Accordion, Swelling Hammond Organ, Heavy Boom-Bap Groove] THE BLACK PRINCE FELL, NOW THE STREETS RUN COLD! First chapter of the war that the city never told! From Lygon Street cafes to a bullet in the dark, Leaving on the pavement an indelible mark! Yeah, THE BLACK PRINCE, THE CROWN TORE APART! (Scratch: "Carlton Crew... first shot in the heart...") An empire crumbling right before it could start! [Outro - Accordion Fades, Heavy Rain Sound FX, Sudden Tape-Stop Finish] (Spoken - calm, cold, deadpan) "January sixteenth, 1998. Case officially unsolved. The war begins." (Subtle vinyl scratch, sudden abrupt tape-stop finish)
