A Storm Rises from the Earth to the Sky
This sky, rising with dust from the earth,
Is just a cloud of smoke—nothing more.
No matter who you were to the world,
You will only remain a fading memory.

Are we afraid of demons? No way.
Even a graveyard can be our runway.
That vulture waiting for a feast?
For him, the end begins with bitterness.

Raw Grit, No Gimmicks
Stone shards grind together,
And a guitar is born.
Strung with melodies so tight,
Like Chinese firecrackers set alight.

The bass rattles, the beats explode,
Echoing through the streets.
Our shares in this market of madness
Aren’t bought with money—
They are measured in raw energy.

Tomorrow? We’ll still be the same.
When you hold your ground,
Why bow down to the game?

Rap Verse: Truth Cuts Through the Noise
The bassline kills the beat,
Drowning out even the rain’s cry.
Hearts beat like drums,
Setting fire to shallow lies.

Doctors and madmen walk the same road,
While visions blur behind golden masks.
Truth won’t shine in a world
Where deception is currency.

But one day, the weight of these questions
Will fall on all of you.
Until then?
Consider this a free hit—swing as you like.

Where Streets Speak and Truth Burns
At the crossroads, potholes grow deep,
Colors swirl in a reckless dance.
Sacred temples, offerings of flowers,
Yet the streets crack beneath the weight of deceit.

Painted masks fade away,
Exposing the truth behind the lies.
These polished floors,
These smooth words—
They were all part of the grand illusion.

Real power?
It’s never loud—it just moves.