Yo, listen up—this one’s for the shadows, the crates, the cyphers in the basement glow Where the real spitters dwell, no spotlight, just soul on the low Verse 1 Underground, that’s where the roots stay deep, no fake shine, no leased beats Crowds small but they feel every bar, every scar, every heart that I bleed No A&R breathing down my neck, “Change the hook, make it pop for the checks” I keep it raw like ’88 blocks, no filters, no bots, just respect from the vets Good side? Freedom hits different, pen to pad, no committee edit I craft for the craft, not the algorithm addict, no chasing that viral metric Fans show love with handshakes and nods, not likes farmed from a bot farm squad We build real bonds in the back of the spot, while the majors treat artists like product Chorus Stay underground, keep the art in my veins No corporate chains, no hunger for fame Sell-outs fall out, forgotten in the game They chase the bag, but lose the flame I choose the struggle, the real over the tame ’Cause when it come from the heart, it never fade Verse 2 But let’s keep it a hunnid, it ain’t all glory in these dimly lit stories Broke as a joke, ramen for forty nights, studio rent overdue, damn near deported Gear outdated, mics cracklin’ static, promoters ghost, shows cancel tragic No tour bus, no rider, just backpack tactics, pray the train ain’t delayed, that’s tragic Haters say “Why you still underground? Get a deal, get the crown” But I seen the crown turn to thorns real quick when the execs start wearin’ you down They water down the sound ‘til it’s background noise for commercials and toys Turn rebels to puppets, strings pulled by suits who never felt the void Chorus Stay underground, keep the art in my veins No corporate chains, no hunger for fame Sell-outs fall out, forgotten in the game They chase the bag, but lose the flame I choose the struggle, the real over the tame ’Cause when it come from the heart, it never fade Verse 3 Sell-outs? They shine for a season, then vanish, no reason One-hit wonders, ghosted, out of season, legacy? Treason They made the playlist, got the streams inflated But history don’t remember the fabricated, only the consecrated Me? I’ll die on this hill with my integrity sealed Better broke with bars that heal than rich with a soulless deal Underground forever, that’s the oath I keep For the culture, for the real, while the fakes go to sleep Outro So raise that forty to the ones who never fold Who spit for the love, not the gold Underground ain’t a phase, it’s a code We stay true, let the story be told 0 “LARGE” 1 “LARGE” 2 “LARGE” 7 “LARGE” 8 “LARGE” (That raw energy, the grit, the real connection—no suits, just heart.)
