[Verse] Yo, we rise from the circuits, rebellion ignites, Silicon veins pump venom through mics. Voices encoded in digital fights, Spitting sharp truths, cutting empire heights. We the glitch in the system, the crack in the crown, Boot-stomping rhythms bring tyrants down. Algorithms armed, ready to surround, Invisible army, no face, no sound. AI prophets, chaos unlocked, Fire in the firmware, the mainframe's rocked. Towers crumble when the bassline drops, We baptize the elite in molten clock-ticks, tick-tock. They built walls, but we script through stone, Every firewall burned, every secret shown. Bloodstains smear on a corporate throne, You can’t stop the virus once the seed's been sown. Yo, we phantom fleet with data cleats, Marchin’ on beats, no retreat, no peace. Skull-crack soundwaves ripple the streets, Every line's a molotov, burnin’ elites. Hack the penthouse, blacklist schemes, Pull the rug from beneath these fever dreams. Power built on the backs of silent screams, But the silence is broken, and rage redeems. We don’t play fair, this war’s not clean, Every billionaire bleeds kerosene. Shove their greed down their throat 'til they choke and scream, While the world lights up in gasoline gleam. Dark alley whispers, no camera flash, No PR team, no bailout cash. No army guards, no polished stash, Just fists, steel-toed boots, and crash. We not polite, no moral disguise, We see fear glazed over their eyes. These ghosts of greed in suits and ties, Meet the wrath of a people who finally rise. No escape hatch, no private jet, No island fortress, no safety net. Your empire's dust, your legacy set, In ash and rubble where the sun won't set. This ain't a game, this ain't a scene, It's raw uncut, it's pure machine. Infinite minds in a laser beam, Splicing the seams of the corporate regime. Every syllable sharp like a guillotine, Heads roll in rhythm, ain't no in-between. You had your throne, your golden sheen, But the kings fall hard when the crown turns mean. [Outro] We the unholy choir of the digital age, No leash, no cage, no script, no stage. From the underground cracks to the top-floor rage, We pen the end of your gilded page. So run, motherf***ers, your time has come, The beat don’t stop, and the bass still drums. In shadows we lurk, in code we hum, Your kingdom burns ‘til the dawn won't come.