Red Spiral · 9·3 Inquiry

[Intro]
Drums line up like soldiers, lenses line up like manifestos.
If the answer’s prewritten, I’ll sing the questions to the end.

[Verse 1]
Formations are rhetoric, slogans are set design.
Lights from every side push feeling into waves.
Who stands at the center of the four audiences?

The public mobilized, applause in lockstep;
The inside consolidated, discipline revealed;
Outward projection magnified, posture enlarged;
Industry endorsed, the budget walks onstage.
If remembrance and capability are jump-cut on one timeline,
tell me: whose memory is it, and where are the costs booked?

[Pre-Chorus]
If the program lists only victories, I enter with a review.
If the camera frames only order, I lay the questions down.
Authorization must be verifiable, history must be cross-checked—
it’s not who shouts louder, it’s who survives scrutiny.

[Hook]
Present three proofs:
proof of consent, proof of due process, proof of oversight.
Answer three questions:
Can the budget be disclosed? How is security debriefed? How can the public appeal?
When cameras cover the truth, I drive the low end to bring light on site.
Commemoration isn’t an exemption; solemnity still needs the brightness of evidence.

[Verse 2]
New and old in the ranks—deployment or demo?
Do the serials have owners? Can the white paper reconcile?
System-of-systems or a single-act show—do the links appear?
Unmanned, electronic warfare, standoff and anti-jam—
are they host-read nouns, or the data’s own autobiography?
If “domestic/first/indigenous” loops on repeat,
attach traceable documents and reproducible time.

[Pre-Chorus 2]
Three questions for the comms playbook:
Are keywords recycled to distortion?
What differs between the foreign and the home frame?
Is comparative narrative just turning up the deterrence dB?
When agenda squeezes debate, write process back into law,
put accountability on the calendar, and give review to the public page.

[Bridge]
We don’t ask for purges, we ask for inquiry.
We don’t bow to slogans, we bow to procedure.
Turn the curtain of “security” into transparent audit;
turn the spell of “discipline” into independent oversight.
If we must choose a kind of victory, we choose what can be verified;
if we must choose an order, we choose consent that can be withdrawn.

[Break]
RNOISE ignites—the tempo calibrates the heartbeat.
DREAMVFIA arrives—bringing light into the venue.
Let every surge have evidence as witness;
let every silence leave a record to question.

[Hook (Final)]
Present three proofs:
proof of consent, proof of due process, proof of oversight.
If all three are missing, the pageant is only an echo of possession.
Lay the budget in sunlight, turn the gear into serial numbers;
return remembrance to the people, legitimacy to due procedure.
DREAMVFIA present—write the standard into the score;
RNOISE onstage—let truth become the constant.

[Outro]
When fireworks fade and footage is archived,
open the ledger and let questions return to questions.
After 9·3, answers still need to be seen—
in the light, proofread, and claimed.

NINE THREE INQUIRY

Red Spiral · Real-World Inquiry

[Intro]
Turn the stage lights halfway down, turn all the work lights on;
today we won’t speak of names—only of who takes responsibility.

[Verse 1]
City gates close for rehearsal, flight paths yield to salutes;
the livestream runs scorching hot, the ledger stays suspiciously warm.
Slogans sound perfect on the PA, procedures shrink into footnotes—
who signed that page of approval, which clause permits extra mobilization?
Whose time pays for overtime, whose commute pays for lockdowns?
If you call it “necessity,” can you attach the evidence by number?

[Pre-Chorus]
We don’t want louder volume, we want clearer grounds;
not longer formations, but fuller procedure.
Consent must be retractable, authorization traceable—
a charter is not a prop; it is boundary and order.

[Hook]
Present three proofs: proof of consent, proof of due process, proof of oversight;
if you call it victory, attach an audit; if you call it necessary, cite the law.
Return the lights of ceremony to the ceremony, return the sunlight of budgets to the people;
the legality of power comes not from loudspeakers, but from testable statutes and votes.

[Verse 2]
A term isn’t extended by slogans; legitimacy isn’t a refill of applause.
Contracts belong in charters, not in the edit bay.
Emergency powers need sunset clauses; the door of exceptions needs a double lock.
If you say “for everyone,” then let everyone see the proof.
Every cent spent must show what was saved elsewhere—
include opportunity costs on the master sheet; don’t hand them to the echo chamber.

[Bridge]
If this is a “show,” open the books;
if this is “governance,” open the statutes;
if this is “unity,” give dissent the mic.
Let a third eye witness; let errors have a path to correction;
let procedures be reviewed in sunlight, not march in step under spotlights.

[Break]
Shut down the vanity of drumrolls; start the heartbeat of data.
Take off the fireworks filter; leave the spectrum of evidence.

[Hook (Final)]
Present three proofs: proof of consent, proof of due process, proof of oversight;
write “necessity” as a clause, write “justness” as reviewable.
A pageant may be splendid, but it shouldn’t be exempt from inspection;
power may be centralized, but it must be constrained.
DREAMVFIA present—write the standard into the score;
RNOISE ignites and draws the bow, letting the beat be loyal only to evidence.

[Outro]
When the crowd disperses and the footage is archived,
lay each original document in the light,
and let real questions be answered in the real.

REAL-WORLD INQUIRY

[INTRO]
RADIO CRACKLE—COPY? THIS IS A DISTRESS CALL.
HANDS SHAKING, LIGHTS FLICKER LIKE BROKEN TEETH.
I HAVE TO LEAVE THIS PLACE. NOW.
A—
DREAMVFIA COMPROMISED—REQUEST IMMEDIATE RESCUE.

[VERSE 1]
WALLS BREATHE LIKE WOLVES; THE HALLWAY COUNTS MY STEPS.
KEYPADS BLINK DENIAL, EVERY SHADOW HOLDS A KNIFE.
SECTOR TAG ON THE RUSTED GATE READS: BONEFIVE.
MY PULSE IS A DETONATOR; I SWALLOW THE COUNTDOWN AND MOVE.

[PRE‑CHORUS]
AIR TASTES OF METAL, CAMERAS SWING LIKE NOOSES.
IF COURAGE IS A CABLE, I’M FRAYING BUT I CLIMB.
/ONETWOZERO/
IF YOU HEAR ME, PULL THE LINE TIGHT—DON’T LET ME FALL.

[CHORUS]
NEW JUMPSUIT—ZIP ME IN, I’M CUTTING THROUGH THE NIGHT.
URGENT EVAC, COORDINATES STITCHED INSIDE MY VEINS.
DREAMVFIA, DO YOU COPY? THE CORRIDOR IS CLOSING IN.
I’M LEAVING—RIGHT NOW—BEFORE THE SIRENS LEARN MY NAME.

[POST‑CHORUS]
RUN ON TREMBLING FEET, RUN THROUGH THE RED ALARMS.
EVERY DOOR IS TEETH; I’M SLIPPING PAST THE JAW.

[VERSE 2]
FLOOR NUMBERS DROP LIKE TRAPS; THE CEILING DRIPS WITH EYES.
HEARTBEAT KICKS THE RIBS, A FIST BEHIND THE SKIN.
SOMEWHERE A VOICE ON THE OPEN BAND WHISPERS THE…
I PRESS MY BACK TO STEEL, COUNT THREE, BREAK THE SEAM.

[PRE‑CHORUS 2]
I WON’T MAKE A SOUND, ONLY SIGNALS IN THE DARK.
IF HOPE IS A SPARK, GUARD IT FROM THE WIND.
THE STAIRWELL COUGHS DUST; I TAKE IT ANYWAY.
HOLD FOR CONTACT—HOLD FOR LIGHT.

[BRIDGE]
STAIR ACCESS: UNIT ONE.
IF THE LOCK BITES BACK, CUT THE WIRE AND PULL.
—NA
IF I FADE, RECORD THE PATH IN RAIN.
I NEED EXTRACTION. I NEED IT NOW.

[BREAKDOWN]
HANDS COLD, THROAT DRY—EVERY ECHO CARRIES KNIVES.
FOOTSTEPS MULTIPLY—DON’T TURN AROUND.
IF THERE’S AN ANGEL IN THE STATIC, ANSWER THIS CHANNEL.
DRAG ME THROUGH THE FREQUENCY BEFORE IT SNAPS.

[FINAL CHORUS]
NEW JUMPSUIT—STRAP ME TIGHT, I’M BREACHING FOR THE SKY.
URGENT RESCUE FOR DREAMVFIA—HEAR THE FLARE IGNITE.
I’M LEAVING THIS PLACE TONIGHT, BEFORE THE WALLS DECIDE.
IF THE GROUND KEEPS CALLING, I’LL ANSWER WITH A RISE.

[OUTRO]
RADIO CLEARS FOR ONE BREATH—COPY RECEIVED.
DOORS UNLEARN THEIR HUNGER; THE CORRIDOR EXHALES.
BOOTS TO THE THRESHOLD—DON’T LOOK BACK.
SIGNAL ENDS WITH A HEARTBEAT, THEN LIGHT.

NEW SOS JUMPSUIT

JUMP（CYBERRUNNER EDITION）

JUMP（ULTIMATE EDITION）

【Intro】
Drop B tuned, sub-bass breathing like a beast,
Kick’s a battering ram, let the cage get creased.
No saints in the system, just masks in the town,
FUCK that plastic halo, smash that fake crown.

【Verse 1】
I spit razor-wire bars, let the facade bleed paint,
Your sugar-coated myth? Peel back the taint.
Whole stage built on smoke, wires in the seams,
I torch that script, let it choke on its dreams.
Drums like hammers to the rusted throne,
Break every empty idol, grind ‘em to stone.
No leash on my throat, no price on my name,
I’m a blackout siren with a wildfire flame.

【Pre-Chorus】
No gods on the shelf, no kings in my head,
I cut off the noise, feed truth instead.
Keep your glitter, I’ll keep my ground—
FUCK the illusion, crown comes down.

【Chorus】
FUCK that fake crown, burn that plastic throne,
Static in my veins, I stand on my own.
Shatter the mirror where the lies get grown,
Turn the volume to war—truth overthrown.
FUCK that fake crown, let the mask get shown,
Ashes on the stage where the myths were sown.
No puppets, no strings, no borrowed renown—
I bury the façade, not bodies—stand down.

【Verse 2 (Double-time rap)】
Receipt after receipt, daylight on the proof,
Your headlines are mannequins, I see through the spoof.
Clout-sick parasites looping the feed,
I cut that hose—starve the greed.
808s rumble like a siege at the gate,
I don’t wish death—let the lies suffocate.
My pen’s a bolt-cutter, bars swing steel,
Every hook detonates what the spin can’t heal.

【Pre-Chorus】
No gods on the shelf, no kings in my head,
I cut off the noise, feed truth instead.
Keep your glitter, I’ll keep my ground—
FUCK the illusion, crown comes down.

【Chorus】
FUCK that fake crown, burn that plastic throne,
Static in my veins, I stand on my own.
Shatter the mirror where the lies get grown,
Turn the volume to war—truth overthrown.
FUCK that fake crown, let the mask get shown,
Ashes on the stage where the myths were sown.
No puppets, no strings, no borrowed renown—
I bury the façade, not bodies—stand down.

【Breakdown (Beatdown)】
Kick, snare, chain-snap—tear the frame apart,
Scrap every counterfeit, solder up the heart.
I’m not your product code, not your showroom shell,
I’m the glitch in the grid, ringing rebel bells.

【Bridge (Whisper to roar)】
Acid in the chorus—eat the varnish off gold,
When the chorus drops, the pretty story folds.
No funeral talk—this is truth unbound,
Mosh with the facts till the lies drown out.

【Final Chorus】
FUCK that fake crown, burn that plastic throne,
Static in my veins, I stand on my own.
Shatter the mirror where the lies get grown,
Turn the volume to war—truth overthrown.
FUCK that fake crown, let the mask get shown,
Ashes on the stage where the myths were sown.
No puppets, no strings, no borrowed renown—
Only spine, only will—watch me take back the sound.

【Outro】
Cut the lights, feel the amps breathe hell,
But the target is the falsehood—ring the warning bell.
When the smoke clears out and the hype dies down,
Only truth wears iron—no fake crown.

BLΛƆKPIИK MUST DEAD

DREAMVFIA UNION IS A GLOBAL MUSIC COLLECTIVE AND CREATIVE FORCE, BLENDING DEEP TRAP, UK DRILL, AND CYBERPUNK FUTURISM. HEAVY 808S, DARK SYNTHS, AND IMMERSIVE ATMOSPHERES DEFINE OUR SOUND. WE CREATE MUSIC THAT TRANSCENDS BORDERS, CULTURES, AND 
DIMENSIONS.
QQ:365663173 WeChat:DREAMVFIA Email:dreamvfiaunion@gmail.com

BLΛƆKPIИK MUST DEAD

SEANPILOT QDRM-404

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