[Intro] [Absolute silence, broken by a single, sharp rim-click] [A complex polyrhythm begins to build using entirely organic hand drums] [Vocals: Rhythmic chanting, acting as another drum] Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Hah. [Verse 1] [A dry, thick acoustic upright bass joins the heavy percussion] [Vocals: Extremely percussive, sharp consonants, interlocking with the drums] I am the apex in the audio, the heavy in the brush. You can hear the canopy begin to collectively hush. I strip away the synthesizer, strip away the chord. I am taking all my energy and plunging it forward. Listen to the wood and listen to the skin. This is exactly where the hierarchy will begin. No digital protection, no electronic shield. I am standing in the center of the undisputed field. The rhythm is a predator, the tempo is a teeth. I am digging up the root of what is lying underneath. [Chorus] [The hand drums erupt into a chaotic, massive tribal break] [Vocals: Barking, commanding, trading spaces with the heavy bass hits] Jungle law! (Strike!) No place for the weak! Jungle law! (Strike!) Watch the way I speak! I strip it to the rhythm, I strip it to the bone! I am standing in the center of the circle completely alone! [Verse 2] [The beat strips back to just a conga loop and the upright bass] [Vocals: A complex triplet flow, winding around the off-beats] You hide behind the plugins, you hide behind the tune. I am howling directly at the center of the moon. I only need a kick drum, I only need a snare. I am pulling all the oxygen directly from the air. The food chain is a ladder, the top is where I sit. I am throwing all your amateur attempts into the pit. A carnivore of cadence, devouring the track. I am leaving absolutely nothing for you to take back. The syncopation stutters, the polyrhythm bends. This is exactly where your little expedition ends. [Chorus] [The hand drums erupt into a chaotic, massive tribal break] [Vocals: Barking, commanding, trading spaces with the heavy bass hits] Jungle law! (Strike!) No place for the weak! Jungle law! (Strike!) Watch the way I speak! I strip it to the rhythm, I strip it to the bone! I am standing in the center of the circle completely alone! [Outro] [Drums stop entirely. Just the heavy acoustic bass playing a descending scale.] [Vocals: A low, menacing growl] Gotcha. [A final, loud slap on a conga drum] [Silence]
