Ladies and gentlemen… Please secure your jewellery. Hide your aunties. And absolutely do not feed the Elephant Man. Welcome… to the Bollywood Bass Bazaar. Gold pon di jacket, dust pon di shoe, Whole street shaking when the bass come through, Shaman step in with the smoke and flame, Elephant behind him forgetting his name. Rickshaw bouncing like hydraulic chrome, Tabla start talking through the microphone, Sitar bend wicked while the low-end growl, Old man dancing with a Bengal fowl. Market shut down when the drumline pass, Chai start jumping from the cup too fast, One little goat run straight through the crowd, Nobody knows why — but the goat look proud. (Who invite di goat?!) Left foot! Right foot! Gold chain swing! Dhol drum! Bass drop! Mek everything ring! From Delhi rooftop to the underground, When the Shaman touch road— Everybody get down. Bollywood badman — whole place freeze, Shaman walk in and the crowd part clean, Gold in the smoke, black heart, no fear, Bassline growl when the darkness draw near. Elephant step and the whole floor tilt, Kings of the chaos, born from the filth, Red lights flash when the low-end attack, One way in — and there’s no way back. (MORE BASS!) Rickshaw swerving when the bassline bend, Sitar screaming like it lost its head, Chai cup jumping off the table in time, Whole market moving when we enter the rhyme. Shaman bring smoke, Elephant bring weight, Two mad kings coming straight through the gate, Tabla go crazy while the brass horns blow, Every shopkeeper yelling, “TURN UP SOME MORE!” Taxi man stop — Police man stare — Somebody launch confetti in the air, Twenty Dhol players marching in time, While the sitar player absolutely lose him mind. The ancient rhythm has awakened. [Temple bell] The bass has chosen its vessel. Unfortunately… …it chose Elephant Man. Bollywood badman — whole place freeze, Shaman walk in and the crowd part clean, Gold in the smoke, black heart, no fear, Bassline growl when the darkness draw near. Elephant step and the whole floor tilt, Kings of the chaos, born from the filth, Red lights flash when the low-end attack, One way in — and there’s no way back. Turn it up! Again! Who destroyed the market? …di goat ?
