(Intro – distorted country guitar, club bass thumping underneath) alight little brother…you ready?!
Neon buzz, heart race, Vegas breathin’ sin,
If this city’s got a pulse, we’re knee-deep in it.
(Verse 1 – reckless, fast)
Jonathan kicked off the night sayin’ “fuck sleep,”
Edwin already loud, eyes low, jaw clenched teeth,
Cocaine snow on a cracked bathroom sink,
Whiskey on her lips, can’t remember what we think.
Weed smoke curlin’ in a flickerin’ light,
Hands everywhere, door barely shut tight,
Mirror fogged up, stall shakin’ loose,
Vegas don’t judge — it just cuts you loose.
(Pre-Chorus – shout-along)
No names, no rules, no fuckin’ shame,
If it feels good now, we do it again.
(Chorus – huge, drunk anthem)
We’re fucked up deep in the middle of sin,
Coke on bare skin, doors closin’ in,
Bass so loud it rattles our bones,
Sex in the shadows, lost our phones.
Jonathan laughin’, Edwin gone feral,
Liquor talkin’ shit, thoughts immoral,
If this night’s wrong, we don’t give a fuck,
Vegas was built for bad-ass luck.
(Verse 2 – darker, dirtier)
Strip club glow like a sinner’s chapel,
Bodies move slow, morals unravel,
Powder disappear off warm skin fast,
Every bad thought breakin’ like glass.
Cash hit the table, dice don’t care,
She leans in close, whispers dare,
Bathroom lines, lipstick smeared,
Whole damn city cheerin’ “get in here.”
(Bridge – half-time, gritty)
(acoustic guitar, drunk gang vocals)
Mama warned us ‘bout nights like these,
Said pleasure comes hard and leaves on its knees,
But brother blood and a city on fire,
We ain’t slowin’ down — we goin’ higher.
(Guitar Solo – filthy, bending, unhinged)
(Verse 3 – peak chaos)
Sun tryin’ hard but we ain’t done,
Vodka for breakfast, fuck a bun,
Red eyes, sweat, hearts still loud,
Laughin’ like kings in a blackout crowd.
Security smirks, bartenders nod,
Even Vegas sayin’ “oh my God,”
No regrets worth talkin’ about,
Just dirty memories burnin’ out.
(Final Chorus – louder, nastier)
We’re fucked up legends for one damn night,
Coke, weed, booze, sweat, and lights,
Doors slam shut, bass won’t quit,
Every bad idea feelin’ legit.
Jonathan grinnin’ like “fuck the sun,”
Edwin yellin’ “we ain’t fuckin’ done,”
If hell’s real, we’ll party there,
But tonight belongs to us — swear.
(Outro – steel guitar crying, club beat fading)
Neon fades but the filth stays true,
Vegas don’t ask questions…
And neither the fuck do we.
Rezin
