Title: WARRANT FOR BASS [Hook] Got a warrant out for the bassline, Every hit feel like a state crime. When the sub drop, borders don’t stick, Whole damn map go epileptic. Got a warrant out for the bassline, Noise so hot it should face time. If the floor don’t crack when the kick come through, Turn it off — that ain’t my crew. [Verse 1] Black steel case with the cables frayed, Custom rig built in a bad decade. Stamp on the side says “do not ship,” We smuggle that sound in a rusted whip. Thick low-end like a loaded truck, If you stand too close, that’s self-bad luck. I don’t chase clout, I just tax your chest, Every drop feel like a stress test. [Pre-Chorus] Cross that line when the lights go low, No safe zone when the amps all blow. [Hook] Got a warrant out for the bassline, Every hit feel like a state crime. When the sub drop, borders don’t stick, Whole damn map go epileptic. Got a warrant out for the bassline, Noise so hot it should face time. If the floor don’t crack when the kick come through, Turn it off — that ain’t my crew. [Verse 2] Passport stamped with the sound complaints, Clubs write notes like we half-saints. “Never again” ’til the next pre-sale, Then they beg back for that freight-train rail. Nu-metal grit with a trap-mouth drawl, Dubstep teeth in a concrete brawl. If the rig don’t clip when the drop engage, We reload heat, then reload rage. [Pre-Chorus] Cross that line when the lights go low, No safe zone when the amps all blow. [Breakdown Tag – over build] No bail, no plea, no grace, Just first-degree charge: abuse of bass. [Final Hook] Got a warrant out for the bassline, Every hit feel like a state crime. When the sub drop, borders don’t stick, Whole damn map go epileptic. If the law show up when the rails go blue, Blame the sound — we just came through. Got a warrant out, but we still play loose— Extradite this fucking juice.
