God Of Sun (Yoriichi Tsugikuni Fan Made Song) rap ver.

Samurai Phonk, Japanese Drill, Atmospheric Boom Bap

(Chorus)
Thirteen forms woven in a golden thread
Leaving every monster in a state of the dead
It’s a clinical strike, it’s a celestial burn
Watching all the arrogance of the centuries turn
I am the sun that the night couldn’t swallow
Leaving a path that no mortal can follow
The blade is a crimson extension of the soul
Playing a devastating, quietist role

(Verse 2)
The brother is a crescent, reaching for the peak
But the envy is a language that the mediocre speak
I see the organs, I see the fiber of the bone
I’m the only king who never wanted a throne
One breath in the lungs, the world becomes still
A mechanical execution of a divine will
You can move at the speed of a lightning crack
But you’ll never see the shadow of my silent attack
I’m the ancestor of the flame and the heat
Leaving nothing but the ashes of a total defeat

(Bridge)
The flute in the pocket is a heavy-duty weight
A reminder of a life that was decided by fate
I’m a fluke, I’m a ghost, I’m a physical law
The only perfect strike that the history saw
Everything is beautiful, everything is fleeting
I can hear the rhythm of a thousand hearts beating

(Outro)
Nothing left but the scent of the burning wood
I did exactly what the universe said I should
The sun goes down, the vision starts to fade
But I’m the only one who never felt afraid
The era is ending.
The flame stays lit.

2180/7500

(Verse 1) Transparent vision, I can see the blood flow Seven hearts pumping in the shadow of a low blow I don’t need to flicker, I don’t need to chase I’m already standing in the center of your space Born with the mark, yeah, the heavens made a mistake A power so heavy that the foundations break I’m a natural disaster in a silk kimono Turning every demon to a forgotten mono No ego in the movement, no heat in the hand Just a walking anomaly in a scorched land (Chorus) Thirteen forms woven in a golden thread Leaving every monster in a state of the dead It’s a clinical strike, it’s a celestial burn Watching all the arrogance of the centuries turn I am the sun that the night couldn’t swallow Leaving a path that no mortal can follow The blade is a crimson extension of the soul Playing a devastating, quietist role (Verse 2) The brother is a crescent, reaching for the peak But the envy is a language that the mediocre speak I see the organs, I see the fiber of the bone I’m the only king who never wanted a throne One breath in the lungs, the world becomes still A mechanical execution of a divine will You can move at the speed of a lightning crack But you’ll never see the shadow of my silent attack I’m the ancestor of the flame and the heat Leaving nothing but the ashes of a total defeat (Bridge) The flute in the pocket is a heavy-duty weight A reminder of a life that was decided by fate I’m a fluke, I’m a ghost, I’m a physical law The only perfect strike that the history saw Everything is beautiful, everything is fleeting I can hear the rhythm of a thousand hearts beating (Chorus) Thirteen forms woven in a golden thread Leaving every monster in a state of the dead It’s a clinical strike, it’s a celestial burn Watching all the arrogance of the centuries turn I am the sun that the night couldn’t swallow Leaving a path that no mortal can follow The blade is a crimson extension of the soul Playing a devastating, quietist role (Outro) Nothing left but the scent of the burning wood I did exactly what the universe said I should The sun goes down, the vision starts to fade But I’m the only one who never felt afraid The era is ending. The flame stays lit.

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