[Intro — hush, subway chime far back] Map open. Night breathing. Prompt Guard online—design the room before the move. [Verse 1] Wet glass, crosswalk beeps, ramen steam in the air, I pace the block like a steward, not a billionaire. Hands light, mind clear, pockets swingin’ behind, I don’t chase noise—I prototype space for the rhyme. Tap lands, draw breath—planeswalker in the flesh, Salt in the rain, pulse in the mesh. Tools at the hip, but the choices are mine, I sign what I publish—put a name on the line. [Pre-Chorus] If eyes don’t land, ears don’t stay— So I clear the sightline, widen the way. Low lights, clean rails, air for the phrase, Let the feeling step forward, no haze. [Hook — chantable, long vowels] Set the room—light the lane, Two beacons up and the world feels sane. Hold the line—walk it home, From one small glow to a silver dome. Set the room—light the lane, City says “breathe,” and we move the same. Hold the line—walk it home, If you’re lost, pick a tone, let it drone. [Verse 2 — controlled flex; brief burst mid-verse] Kids at the curb say “teach us the trick,” I show them the pocket and how vowels stick. L-to-R fit high, chord tones on the one, Leave spice for the spotlight, not every run. (—double-time burst, 2 bars—) Grid flip, quick stitch, tongue tip, click—done. (—back to layback—) I’m not your panic button; I’m the calm mechanic, Frame honest—watch the metrics vanish. Receipt for the spec, clear credits on the glass, If it isn’t earned, it doesn’t pass. [Bridge — call & response] Me: Who aims the light? Crowd: We do. Me: Who chooses right? Crowd: We do. Me: If tools show teeth? Crowd: We review. Me: When fear gets loud— Crowd: We move through. [Hook (bigger)] Set the room—light the lane, Two beacons up and the world feels sane. Hold the line—walk it home, From one small glow to a silver dome. Set the room—light the lane, Raleigh nights, Paris dawns—same vein. Hold the line—walk it home, If you’re lost, pick a tone, let it drone. [Verse 3 — memoir slice, support-main ethic] Back lot load-out, tape pulls off the floor, I thank the crew first—always open the door. Send stems to the kids who stayed back to learn, One spark fairly shared beats ten you burn. Crypto? Trends? I don’t worship the chart— I’m pricing in dignity, not selling the heart. Canvas or code, the rule never bends: If it helps us breathe, it belongs. It stays. [Outro — inhale/exhale] Quiet city, lanes dim, pockets slow. Frame holds. We home.
