[Intro] Ten thousand winters holdin' its tongue. We didn't wake it. We just... knocked. [Verse 1] Core sample pulled from a silence that old, Somethin' folded in the lattice, patient and cold. Not asleep — waiting. There's a difference, see, Between dormant and choosin' when it wants to be free. Extremophile scripture, written in frost, Every ice age a chapter of somethin' we lost. It don't want your warmth, it don't want your name, It wants the exact same cold it came in the same. [Chorus] Is it alive if it's older than time? Is it a virus, a god, or a rhyme? The permafrost don't melt — it remembers, Every one of your bones is just embers. We ain't found it. It found the drill. Ask yourself who's climbing up the hill. [Verse 2] They said the mammoth carried it gentle, like a secret in the marrow, A message sealed in a body built like an arrow. Pointed at us. Ten millennia of aim, And we dug it up ourselves and we're callin' it a game. Cryo-conite bloomin' where the sunlight can't reach, Teachin' the glacier a whole new speech. It's not attacking. It's translating. And every degree we rise, it gets less patient. [Bridge] Listen— The ice was never empty. The cold was never dead. It was just a library Waiting to be read. Every frozen century, A single held breath. And now the thaw is turning pages Nobody's ready to read yet. (Verse 3) Chipping ice off a PLIE-stuh-seen epoch fossil bed, Found a mummified mammoth wit a fungus in its head! Crack da core sample open, let da ancient terror breathe, Watch da glacial high-fay start to twist and interweave! Drilling deep in da tundra where da sunlight never goes, Now cryogenic spores be ticklin' my toes! This ain't no normal mold—it’s an arctic pathogen, Turning frozen carbon into weaponized oxygen! [Hook] Feel dat chill? Dat’s da kry-uh-FILL-ik blast! Ten millennia frozen, but it’s waking up at last! Lungs crystallizing like a kry-OFF-uh-ruhss shell, Turning every al-VEE-uh-lie to a sub-zero hell! Got a frozen pehr-uh-THEE-see-uhm burstin' through da chest, Spitting diamond-sharp crystals till there's nothin' fuckin' left! (AY!) [Outro] (fx: Sound of ice cracking under immense pressure, followed by a low, hollow wind howl] We waking up somethin' dat's been dead ten thousand years... yeah! Look at da frost growin' backwards up da drill bit!
