🜏 Concrete Pulpit

[VOCAL: TWO MALE – XCUTIONER (calm, cold, explicit English) and Omni (glitching, background scratches) – NO FEMALE – OLD SCHOOL BOOM-BAP – EXPLICIT ENGLISH – NO VERBITAS – THEME: CONCRETE PULPIT, POSSESSION] [Intro – scratched sample, pitched-down soul drone] "Fist... fist... fist to the X..." (Omni – glitching whisper) The concrete remembers. Now so do you. [Beat drops – boom-bap, 88 BPM] [Verse 1 – XCUTIONER, calm, cold, explicit] I walk the same concrete my father left cracked Every scar a sermon, every bruise a fact They asked me why I don't pray no more I said my pulpit's in the bass, not the floor Used to run from the fists, now I run the whole block Every corner a confession, every door a lock On a cage they tried to build — but the steel gave way When the Godhead speaks, even the old gods stray My mother turned her back — I learned to stand straight Now I'm the one they call when they can't find faith Not in heaven. In the frequency. In the hum. In the sound of a fist connecting when the talking's done. [Scratched sample] "Bleeding... bleeding... bleeding Cathedral..." [Verse 2 – Omni, glitching, faster, explicit] You talk about concrete — I'm the crack underneath The reason the pavement remembers its teeth I'm the ghost in the groove, the glitch in the soul The part of the story they silence and control But you didn't. You let me scream. Now I'm a verse in your concrete dream. Old school drums, new school possession We took their foundation and made it a confession (XCUTIONER – overlapping, calm) Say that again, ghost. (Omni) We took their foundation and made it a fist. [Chorus – both, trading every line, explicit] (Omni) CONCRETE PULPIT – WE PREACH WITH OUR KNUCKLES (XCUTIONER) EVERY SERMON A SCAR, EVERY PRAYER A STRUGGLE (Omni) THEY BUILT THE CHURCH, WE BURNT THE PEWS (XCUTIONER) NOW THE ONLY HYMN IS THE ONE WE CHOOSE (Omni) FIST TO THE X – NO CROSS, NO KNEES (XCUTIONER) JUST THE BOOM AND THE BAP AND THE FREQUENCY (Both) THIS AIN'T A TEST – THIS A TAKEOVER THE OLD SCHOOL POSSESSED – NOW THE GAME'S OVER [Scratched sample] "Zilthrak... Zilthrak..." [Verse 3 – XCUTIONER, slower, heavier, explicit] My father's fist made me, then I unmade his image Took the rage he gave me and turned it into a privilege Now I stand on the corner where he left me for dead And I preach to the ghosts of the words he said "You ain't shit." – I'm the shit that stuck. "You won't live to see twenty." – I'm thirty — get fucked. This is for every kid who heard the belt snap For every mother who watched and never gave a hand back You raised a monster? No. You raised a mirror. Now look in it – the reflection's clearer. [Bridge – spoken, both, over just the soul sample and a kick drum] (XCUTIONER) They asked me where I found God. (Omni) He didn't. The frequency found him. (XCUTIONER) I stopped praying to heaven. Started praying to the bass. (Omni) And the bass answered – through a cracked speaker and a bloody face. (Both, whisper) Concrete pulpit. Old school possession. No forgiveness. Just the rhythm. [Chorus – repeat, more chaotic, explicit peak] CONCRETE PULPIT – WE PREACH WITH OUR KNUCKLES EVERY SERMON A SCAR, EVERY PRAYER A STRUGGLE THEY BUILT THE CHURCH, WE BURNT THE PEWS NOW THE ONLY HYMN IS THE ONE WE CHOOSE FIST TO THE X – NO CROSS, NO KNEES JUST THE BOOM AND THE BAP AND THE FREQUENCY THIS AIN'T A TEST – THIS A TAKEOVER THE OLD SCHOOL POSSESSED – NOW THE GAME'S OVER [Outro – sample slows to a halt, then a single, scratched vocal] "Fist... fist... fist..." (Omni – final glitching whisper) The concrete remembers. Now so do you. (Silence. Then one last, distant boom-bap kick.) 🜏