[Intro | solo shamisen, distant shakuhachi] [eren male | spoken, calm] Funny thing about keeping quiet... People think you've got nothing to say. [Shamisen stops] Big mistake. [Verse 1 | 140 BPM grime | measured UK flow] Walked in late, didn't make an entrance, Bloke at the back started making assessments. Never met me, already got questions, Funny how strangers deliver their lessons. Heard him say I ain't built for the session, Same bloke needed three takes for a sentence. I don't get loud, don't beg for attention, Let him keep talking, I'm keeping perspective. Got a sharp little tongue and a habit of waiting, Watch how they move when the room starts changing. Some want applause just for participating, I want a good riddim, no exaggerating. No grand introduction, no theatrical pose, No borrowed reputation or designer clothes. When the shamisen rings and the bassline rolls, I'll give you sixteen, then see how it goes. [Hook | heavy sub, taiko accents] Quiet blade, I don't need to shout, One clean cut and the truth comes out. Big talk flying when I'm not about, Soon as I step in, they quieten down. Quiet blade, keep my timing tight, Watch how I move when the drums ignite. Don't need a crown, don't need a fight, Just a mic and a riddim and the bars done right. [Instrumental | 8 bars | shamisen, taiko, sub] [Verse 2 | syncopated drums | internal rhymes] Man came dressed like a final boss, Two fake chains and a jacket that cost. Said he's got fans from here to Japan, Checked his last tune, only played by his nan. That's not hate, that's an observation, Big reputation needs explanation. Claims he's the future of his generation, Still needs his mum for the train reservation. I'm not here judging a bloke for his clothes, Wear what you like, that's how it goes. But don't start boasting about all of your shows, When the venue's your kitchen and nobody knows. I let him finish, he thought he'd succeeded, Handed the mic back, the DJ proceeded. Eight little bars and the point was completed, Didn't need shouting or lines being repeated. [Hook | full drums, shamisen answers] Quiet blade, I don't need to shout, One clean cut and the truth comes out. Big talk flying when I'm not about, Soon as I step in, they quieten down. [Verse 3 | stripped drums, low sub] Used to react when somebody got clever, Turn one bad comment into bad weather. Now I can hear all the nonsense together, Leave it alone, let them talk for forever. Don't confuse calm with a lack of conviction, I can be patient and still have an opinion. Some make a scene just to win recognition, I'd rather make something worth your attention. Got scars from mistakes I was making for years, Paid for my choices in money and tears. Now when a fool tries to get in my ear, I hear what he's saying, then leave him right there. [Breakdown | shakuhachi, sparse taiko] [eren male | spoken] You can have the last word. I'll have the next sixteen. [Verse 4 | DOUBLE-TIME | crisp, rapid-fire diction] I'm checking the metre, correcting the measure, Connecting the syllables, changing the texture. They're guessing the rhythm, I'm setting the tempo, Then landing the rhyme while they're chasing the echo. [Flow switch | faster triplets, clear consonants] I'm setting the pace and I'm staying precise, I'm taking the space and I'm placing it right. You race through a verse but you're wasting your lines, I'm making each syllable earn its own time. No stumbling, mumbling, jumbling phrases, No copying patterns or chasing the latest. I'm building a cadence, then breaking its basis, And bringing it back when the bass rearranges. They've practised their poses and polished their captions, I've practised the verses and tightened the patterns. They talk about talent, I'm talking about action, The difference is clear when the beat starts cracking. [Instrumental Drop | 16 bars | aggressive shamisen, taiko, sub] [No vocals] [Verse 5 | half-time pocket | dry London humour] Now the room's gone quiet, the DJ's grinning, Bloke from the back says the sound weren't fitting. Funny how quickly excuses start spinning, When the tune's still playing and everybody's listening. He says, "That was lucky." I say, "Could be." Then ask for another, he suddenly leaves. I'm not chasing him down, got a train to catch, And shopping I left in a bag by the decks. Never said I was perfect, never claimed to be great, Still make daft choices and turn up late. But give me a beat and a little bit of space, I'll say what I mean and deliver it straight. [Final Hook | full grime drums, taiko, shamisen] Quiet blade, I don't need to shout, One clean cut and the truth comes out. Big talk flying when I'm not about, Soon as I step in, they quieten down. Quiet blade, keep my timing tight, Watch how I move when the drums ignite. Don't need a crown, don't need a fight, Just a mic and a riddim and the bars done right. [Outro | solo shamisen, fading sub] [eren male | spoken] Anyway... Where were we?
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