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[Verse]
Heart beats sync with the snare, it's a duel in the chest,
Words sharper than a dagger, cut jewels from the rest,
Concrete jungle anthem, rats scurry and jest,
Each line a heatwave, sunburn on your vest.

Spit fire like a dragon, no fairytales in sight,
The boom bap claps, shadows dance in the night,
Needles scratch the wax, vinyl sings my plight,
Underdog bark loud, but the bite take flight.

[Chorus]
Mic check, mic check, let it echo through the hall,
Spin the wheels, let 'em fall, scratch the surface, hear it call,
Mic check, mic check, rise up, never crawl,
Boom-bap battleground, I’m the king of it all.

[Verse 2]
Spit raw—uncooked, marinated in pain,
Every rhyme a storm cloud, thunder pours through the rain,
Tag my name on the beat, graffiti stain the grain,
Past, present, future tense, all locked in my chain.

Clocks tick but I don’t, timeless rhythm my creed,
I plant words like seeds, harvest flows that bleed,
Scratches slice through the air, DJ’s hands proceed,
To make the needle dance, break records at speed.

[Bridge]
Turntables spinning, world tilting off its axis,
Scratch static magic, reverse time, no practice,
Raw and rugged cadence, no polish, no tactics,
This boom-bap religion, no fakes, no theatrics.

Mic Check Chronicles

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Mic Check Chronicles

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