[Intro – Kilo | male lead MC | confident rhythmic grime flow | street-smart bounce | internal rhymes | quiet deadpan] "Chief gave one instruction." "One." "Read the booster packet." "Not. By. Mouth." [Beat drops] [Verse One – Kilo | male lead MC | controlled technical grime flow | dense internal rhymes] Got the dose in the case with the seal intact, combat grade chemistry, read the facts, neural kick, reaction stack, little blue problem in a foil-backed pack. Chief said listen, don't chew that shit, don't taste-test, lick, dissolve or spit, not sublingual, not one little bit, so naturally I asked— "Where does it fit?" [Instrumental Break | DJ turntable scratching | distorted guitar pulse | medical scanner beep] [Verse Two – Kilo | male lead MC | faster technical flow | internal rhymes] Medical database, query returned, administration route still unconfirmed, Raven looked once then immediately turned, Echo said nothing— which got me concerned. Then inventory search hit ancient gear, holy relic sitting suspiciously near, Amarr antique with a purpose unclear— St. Tetrimon's Finger. "...why the fuck is that here?" [Pre-Chorus – Kilo | male lead MC | accelerating clipped delivery] Chief said booster pills aren't oral. Fine. Message received. Crystal. Moral. But if the packet says insert— and the relic looks— "Hold on." "Who put gloves on the table?" [Chorus – Kilo | male lead MC | hard rhythmic chant] NOT BY MOUTH. Chief made that clear. Finger in inventory. Bad fucking year. NOT BY MOUTH. Follow the route. Don't ask Kilo how he worked it out. [Post-Chorus – Vex | low backing hype ad-libs] "Read the label." "READ IT." [Verse Three – Kilo | male lead MC | rapid double-time technical rap] Pharmacological, tactical, practical, capsuleer chemicals borderline magical, Chief's instructions technically factual, my interpretation? Catastrophically literal. Boost in the bloodstream, heat in the hull, brain goes sharp when the overview's full, side effects listed? Yeah, probably dull— compared to explaining why I borrowed the Finger from an Amarr cult. [Instrumental Break | DJ turntable scratching | industrial percussion | single metallic CLANG] [Bridge – Kilo | male lead MC | beat stripped down | clinical deadpan] "Okay." "For legal reasons." "Mid-Rust Records does not provide medical advice." "Chief Vinnegar DooShay does." "And his advice was very specific." [Silence] "Not." "By." "Mouth." [Final Verse – Kilo | male lead MC | maximum velocity technical flow] So check your dose, check your clone, check route, check what goes in before something comes out, check cargo twice when the Chief starts to shout, and never ask Vex what the Finger's about. Boosters online, lock time tight, overheat tackle, we're taking the fight, pulse going mad but the dosage is right— and somewhere in station an ancient Amarrian saint just turned off the light. [Final Chorus – Kilo | male lead MC | heavy rhythmic chant | Vex low backing ad-libs] NOT BY MOUTH. Chief made that clear. Finger in inventory. Nobody come near. NOT BY MOUTH. That's all he said. Instructions followed. Questions? "Ask Med." [Outro – Kilo | quiet deadpan over medical scanner] "Chief?" "Next time..." "Could you be slightly more specific?" [scanner BEEP] "...and who sterilised the Finger?"
