[Verse 1] Move left. Hit hard. Whole room off guard. One step. Wrong place. Bassline in your face. Everything leans sideways when the pressure hits the floor. You came here for a rhythm. Now the rhythm wants a war. [Pre-Chorus] Push it. Pull it. Break the shape. Nothing clean gets out this place. [Chorus] Crash geometry. Angles in the beat. Crash geometry. Concrete underneath. Every line comes apart when the bass hits underneath. Crash geometry. Make the whole room lose its feet. [Verse 2] Red light. White noise. Bad ideas. Good choice. One loop gets dirtier every time it comes around. Drums hit like falling scaffolds. Bassline shakes the ground. No elegance. No apology. Just pressure turned to sound. [Pre-Chorus] Push it. Pull it. Break the shape. Nothing clean gets out this place. [Chorus] Crash geometry. Angles in the beat. Crash geometry. Concrete underneath. Every line comes apart when the bass hits underneath. Crash geometry. Make the whole room lose its feet. [Bridge] You can measure every angle. You can number every wall. But once the rhythm starts collapsing— none of that means anything at all. [Final Chorus] Crash geometry. Angles in the beat. Crash geometry. Concrete underneath. Every line comes apart when the bass hits underneath. Crash geometry. Make the whole room lose its feet. Crash geometry. No straight lines. No retreat. Done.
