Gravel Crown King [Intro] Backroad smoke curls off the crown, engine growl echoing like a warning, alley‑jazz shadows stretch long, and every rider feels the story coming. [Verse 1] MadCat leans into the curve, gravel spitting like a drummer’s crack, chrome catching café‑light glimmers, noir grin carved sharp in the black. He rides like the road owes him, like the night signs his checks, every challenger lined like portraits waiting to be wrecks. [Prechorus] Whispers trail behind his tires, brass‑smoke rumors in the wind, they say the crown picks its king, but MadCat never lets it begin. [Chorus] Gravel Crown King, street‑lit swing in his wake, funk‑cut swagger on the throttle, every dare another soul to take. Gravel Crown King, laugh sharp enough to sting, and every rider who chases him leaves knowing who wears the ring. [Verse 2] Oil‑drum heat on his jacket, charcoal glow in his eyes, walking‑bass hum in the engine, noir truth dressed up in lies. He collects challengers like tokens, keeps their stories in his grin, every run ends the same way— he wins, they fold, he rides again. [Prechorus 2] Brick‑wall echoes follow him, trumpet‑smoke slicing the night, the crown never slips or wavers, it just burns hotter in the light. [Chorus 2] Gravel Crown King, street‑lit swing in his wake, funk‑cut swagger on the throttle, every dare another soul to take. Gravel Crown King, laugh sharp enough to sting, and every rider who chases him leaves knowing who wears the ring. [Bridge] If you hear that café‑noir hum, that brass‑smoke sting in the dark, you’re already in his kingdom— and the road has made its mark. [Outro] Backroads fade behind him, stories scatter like sparks in the wind, and the crown stays welded to the night, waiting for the next fool to pretend.
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