[Intro – cold open, half-bar drop] Yeah… Dark rooms, gold cups, blood on the carpet London nights, truth gets marketed Oi— --- [Hook 1 – grim, declarative] They wear crowns made of contracts and lies Clean suits, but the dirt’s in their eyes Run the world from a glass high-rise I see through it all, no disguise --- [Verse 1 – steady grime flow] They toast champagne while the kettle’s empty Talk about “growth” but the rent’s still hefty Smile for the camera, hands real greasy Sign off wars like it’s light and easy Old boys’ club, same last names Different decade, same damn games They buy the law, then cry “stay calm” While they write new rules with a shaking palm I’m from flats where the lifts don’t work Where hope’s on tick and the nights feel cursed You invest in fear, I invest in words Every bar I spit is a leaked document, nerds --- [Hook 2 – variation, more venom] Gold teeth grin while the city starves Silk tie choking the working class Pull strings, hide hands, play gods But the ground remembers all your scars --- [Verse 2 – DOUBLE-TIME / RAPID-FIRE] Listen— Puppet-masters panicking, scrambling, cancelling witnesses Cannibal capitalism chewing up villages Images polished, the villainous privileges Hidden in dividends, buried in percentages Ledger-line sinners with saint-face energy Praying in public, privately empty Senates get bought with a pen and a Hennessy Truth gets drowned in a sea of “allegedly” Shell companies nesting like Russian dolls One phone call and the justice stalls Stock market jumps when the bloodshed calls You profit off death, then discuss “morals” I’m stacking syllables, surgical sentences Serrated sentences sever your fences Evidence everywhere, edited references Redacted reality, censored remembrance Talk revolution but fear the receipts I’m naming the disease, you’re treating the tweets Double-time heartbeat, venomous speech 140 rage from the ends to the seats --- [Hook 3 – darker, stripped, threatening] Count your money, not your days Truth’s got a way of breaking gates You can’t bury dirt in digital age Every secret got a grave with a name --- [Verse 3 – slower, menacing, space between bars] You shake hands with devils, call it “policy” Then wonder why the streets move angrily You never felt hunger, just boredom and coke Never held hope, just leveraged it broke From boardroom plots to the news at ten Same story spun by a different pen You fear one thing and it ain’t no gun It’s when broke man learns who pulled which ones I ain’t saviour talk, I’m the siren sound When the system cracks and the lies fall down This ain’t a diss for a man or a crew This is aimed at the throne and whoever sits too --- [Hook 4 – final variation, victorious tone] No more masks, yeah the veil got torn Old kings nervous, new age born You ran the world in the dark that you formed Now the lights stay on till the truth feels warm
