50 Complicated

We Kill the Charts is a nocturnal confession set to thunderous rhythm — a song that prowls through neon streets and scribbled napkins, chasing the raw spark that no playlist can tame. It’s about making noise your own way — refusing polish, ignoring the map, and finding poetry in cracked vinyl and cigarette smoke. Every beat feels like rebellion dressed in melody, a storm of sound that remembers what it means to mean something. This is not about topping charts — it’s about breaking them apart and writing your name in the static.

We Kill the Charts ist ein nächtliches Bekenntnis auf donnerndem Rhythmus – ein Song, der durch Neonstraßen und vollgeschriebene Servietten streift, auf der Suche nach dem Funken, den keine Playlist bändigen kann. Es geht darum, auf eigene Weise laut zu sein – ohne Hochglanz, ohne Plan, mit Poesie aus Vinylknistern und Zigarettenrauch. Jeder Beat klingt nach Rebellion in Melodieform, nach einem Sturm, der daran erinnert, was Bedeutung wirklich heißt. Hier geht’s nicht darum, die Charts zu stürmen – sondern sie zu sprengen und den eigenen Namen im Rauschen zu hinterlassen.

We kill the Charts 

Lights cut low, vinyl snaps
Yeah, we start like that

I write on napkins in a diner off 5th and grey
Black coffee burned, my name on the edge of the page
Old tram bell rings, some kid spits verses in the rain
They nod, then go home — I leave a crater with my name
Concrete smells like history and my chorus eats the stage

We kill the charts — no, we don’t play nice
Oh, we don’t play nice — watch the lights
We kill the charts — no, we don’t play nice

My hook’s a grenade in a cheap white T-shirt, pockets full of songs
A busted amp, a cigarette, three nights and a million wrongs
Subway tiled with echoes of the rhymes that never quit
I drop a line — whole rooms learn to breathe to it
Radio DJs whisper, “Who the hell wrote this?”

They told me “don’t” like it was a map
I tore the map, now watch the atlas fold

We kill the charts — no, we don’t play nice
They fold like cheap advice — louder, twice
We kill the charts — no, we don’t play nice

Vinyl crackles, my melody licks like winter on the tongue
Teenage ghosts in thrift-store jackets sing every line unsung
I put a crooked grin on the moon — it laughs and leans in close
My songs are crooked maps, they find the parts you never chose
A streetlight signs my name, a stray dog howls in Morse

We wrote a war on silence — bloodless, beautiful, and loud
I taught the night to bow

Cameras blink — influencers talk, but their stories fall like ash
My chorus is a storm surge, your playlists turn to crash
Leather boots, late trains, a motel mirror reading truths
I barter bars for atmosphere, I steal your worn-out boots
They come for the crown — I hand them a mirror, watch them pass

One verse, one cut — and your favorite song forgets its lines

We kill the charts — no, we don’t play nice
They drown in our device — feel the bite
We kill the charts — no, we don’t play nice

Boom!

I sneak poetry into the pockets of your morning commute
Slip a hook into the coffee steam until the whole car’s mute
That laugh you can’t place — that’s my chorus carving space
My words are small obsessions that won’t leave your face
We’re not polite — we’re precise; we’re not loud — we displace

I wrote the sunrise wrong — then sold it back as anthem

We kill the charts — we don’t play nice
We kill the charts — they fold, they fold
Na Na Na — Na Na Na — sing until the night
We kill the charts — no, we don’t play nice

Say our names like they’re an accusation
Say them slow — like a verdict
Mmh mmh mmh — Da Da Da

Vinyl fades, the tram goes on — the city keeps its secrets tight
A neon heart on 7th and Brown still pulses in the night

Quiet…


We kill the Charts

ST. BASIL - 6pm in NYC

This is the debut album of St. Basil, that is an artistic journey through life portrayed in pages of his father's memoirs. The is an excellent project from the hip hop award winning artist who was twice named one of the top 50 underground and independent hip hop artists in the world.

12 - St Basil - 51 Regrets

05 - St Basil - 44 Dozen Roses

02 - St Basil - 41 Never Give In - Feat Daytona & Journalist

Be Gone

In the world ye shall have tribulation ft. Tabiya Chaaba & Prod. Yung Tago

Chec out the vid 2 one of my hottest songs "Natural" https://youtu.be/x6xNxn_xsQY

02 - St Basil - 41 Never Give In - Feat Daytona & Journalist

Stbasil215