We pull the strings

[Intro | spoken gravelly boss voice over pulsing dark synths | low menace building] Dirtbags... listen up. We pull the strings from the shadows. Behind every faction, every corporate empire. Keep those capsuleers divin' into wormhole space, doin' our dirty work. They think they are the good ones. Ha. Grave robbin' saints. [Verse 1 | dark techno rap flow | syncopated low cadence | nine to ten syllables per line] In the shadows deep we orchestrate the game Dirtbag Mafia pulls strings without a name Capsuleers charge forward thinkin' they are free Robbin' graves for relics twistin' history We whisper sweet incentives fuel their bloody fire Monuments for data desecrate the pyre They mine the rocks and huff the gas for our supply Drug production boomin' while their souls all die Corporation wars we stoke from far behind Keep the capsuleers runnin' blind but aligned [instrumental] [Pre-Chorus | rising tension | building synth layers | half-time to accelerating flow] Evil jokes we cackle as they loot the ancient dead Grave robbin' heroes fill our coffers soaked in red Data from the monuments they crack with foolish pride Think they fight for justice on the kami·kaze run [instrumental] [Chorus | Haiku structure | anthemic stacked echoes | belted with reverb | five seven five syllables] Dirtbag shadows pull Capsuleers commit the crimes Think they are the pure [Verse 2 | intensifying dark techno drive | double-time push | nine to ten syllables per line] Send them laughin' into J space holes so vast Robbin' sleeper tombs we toast their broken past Huffin' gas for boosters that we peddle black Mining ore and relics build the Dirtbag stack They hack the data sites monuments come crashin' down Evil chuckles echo as we watch them drown Think they are the victors in the corporation fight But the Dirtbag Mafia owns their endless night W H P D interferes with our perfect play Yet the capsuleers keep feedin' us each day [instrumental] [Bridge | slow atmospheric swell | breathy menacing delivery | tension peak] Behind the empires factions all in line We make the capsuleers do the dirty grind Grave robbin' jokes like pilfered bones for fun Monument heists leavin' graves forever shunned They believe their glory in this blood soaked game We laugh... we profit... shadows fuel the flame [instrumental] [Outro | fading distorted beats | echoing ad-libs | resolving menace] Dirtbag Mafia reigns... capsuleers dance our tune... Wormhole crimes keep flowin'... under hidden moon... Family never bends... profits never cease... But how does W H P D always find us?