[Intro – Radio Transmission] “Incoming traffic… unidentified… smells like funk…” [Verse 1] Neon fog on my shoes, trash lights blinkin’ ultraviolet blues, chrome rats dancin’ in the sewer grooves, bassline’s meltin’—it’s oozin’ through! [Pre-Chorus] Funk alarm in the cosmic zone, drums made of bone and silicone, alien DJ scratchin’ a clone, welcome home, freak—your mind’s been blown! [Chorus] 🚀 In the arrival corridor, where the slime meets the disco floor, mutants twist in zero-G, every beat’s contagious debris! [Verse 2] Wires hum like hungry flies, acid rain drips from pixel skies, android queens with laser eyes, booty shake until the reactor dies! [Bridge – Breakdown] Bassline malfunction detected… groove containment breach imminent! (synths wobble, robotic voices chant) “Funkcore… Funkcore… Sector Nine… Divine…” [Chorus – Extended] 🚀 In the arrival corridor, the air tastes like circuit gore, dance until your suit implodes, ride that cosmic overflowed! [Outro] Mutant horns scream in chrome, trash gods call you home, the corridor fades to neon bone— you’re here, alone—but never alone.
