[Verse] Concrete cracks beneath my boots, Echoes hum where the neon once stood. Shuttered glass, a ghost in the frame, Smoke curls out like a whispered name. One eye on the edge, the other on the line, This lot’s a warzone, no peace in the design. You came with a mic, I came with a blade— Now we’re spinning words like the world’s been betrayed. [Pre-Chorus] No applause, just the hum of a dead streetlight, The kind that knows when truth is a knife. You don’t speak—your silence cuts deeper, So I answer in rhythms, in echoes, in leather. [Chorus] Cipher in the dark, hands in the air, Every word a spark, every word a snare. No god in the lot, just the heat of the fight, We drop names like bricks in the dead of night. Cipher in the dark, no mercy, no rhyme— Just truth in the beat, and the world goes blind. We drop names like bricks in the dead of night. [Verse] You spit a verse like a punch to the ribs, I match it in cold, I don’t flinch in the grip. The sky’s a bruise, the sky’s a wound, But the rhythm’s still real, it’s still in the ground. You claim the block, I claim the frame, But the truth’s in the lines—no name, just flame. The radio’s dead, but the message stays, In the beat of the pulse, in the pause, in the haze. [Pre-Chorus] No applause, just the hum of a dead streetlight, The kind that knows when truth is a knife. You don’t speak—your silence cuts deeper, So I answer in rhythms, in echoes, in leather. [Chorus] Cipher in the dark, hands in the air, Every word a spark, every word a snare. No god in the lot, just the heat of the fight, We drop names like bricks in the dead of night. Cipher in the dark, no mercy, no rhyme— Just truth in the beat, and the world goes blind. We drop names like bricks in the dead of night. [Bridge] (Backing vocals, layered, low and tense) One breath. One move. The silence screams louder than the words. No script. No stage. Just the rhythm and the war. (Beat drops out, then kicks back in hard) This ain’t a game—this is the last call. You speak? Then prove it. Now. [Chorus] Cipher in the dark, hands in the air, Every word a spark, every word a snare. No god in the lot, just the heat of the fight, We drop names like bricks in the dead of night. Cipher in the dark, no mercy, no rhyme— Just truth in the beat, and the world goes blind. We drop names like bricks in the dead of night. [Outro] (Whispered, over fading beat) No names. Just the cipher. Just the dark. Just the sound.