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https://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/9e65bb7bab13be770bc163fa3ecb3bf4.mp3
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Wake up to the static,
sky burned chrome,
Steel boots crunchin' through a world overthrown.
Ash in the air, but my lungs still spit fire,
Walkin' through the ruins like a ghost with a choir.
Circuit scars on my leather-clad soul,
Battery heart, but it still got goals.
Echoes in the wind, whisper tales untold,
Turn the fallout to gold, yeah, I’m breakin’ the mold.
Neon dust, in the moonlight I trust,
Ridin' solo through the rust, won’t let my gears bust.
Beats drop like bombs in a world gone bust,
But I rise from the smog—'cause survival’s a must.
Old vinyl spins, soundtrack to the wreckage,
My words cut deep, no need for a message.
Flicker of hope in a glitchin’ display,
I’m the last DJ in this end-time ballet.
Bars carved in stone, not just digital dreams,
My rhymes wear gas masks, stay clean through the screams.
Enemies lurk like shadows in the mist,
But I battle with a mic—and a post-nuke fist.
Neon dust, in the moonlight I trust,
Ridin' solo through the rust, won’t let my gears bust.
Beats drop like bombs in a world gone bust,
But I rise from the smog—'cause survival’s a must.
So if you hear static, and bass in the breeze,
Know I’m out there, writin’ raps on the freeze.
No crowns in the ash, just legends and thieves,
And I'm both—still breathin’ while the universe grieves.