(Intro) (whispered, breathy)
Watch how she moves.
Nothing wasted.
Nothing rushed.
(Verse 1)
She doesn’t hurry, she arrives
Every step is calculated fire
Eyes half-lidded, lips relaxed
She knows exactly where you’re at
No sound but the room holding breath
Gold light sliding on her dress
She doesn’t chase the heat she makes
She lets it circle, lets it ache
(Pre-Chorus)
Back straight, chin slow
You lean in, she already knows
One glance—controlled, precise
Soft like velvet, sharp like knives
(Chorus)
Feline on the runway, slow and clean
Liquid spine, dangerous grace between
She don’t beg, she don’t bite fast
She lets you want her—lets it last
Feline on the runway, eyes say more
Than any body’s said before
Elegance with teeth beneath
She moves like hunger dressed in silk
(Verse 2)
Every camera learns her name
By the way she never begs the frame
Hands relaxed, power low
Like she could leave—and steal the show
Perfume heavy, midnight warm
Calm before a quiet storm
She isn’t loud, she isn’t sweet
She’s discipline in heels and heat
(Pre-Chorus)
Tailbone sway, shoulder bare
She feels the stare, she doesn’t care
She owns the pause, the space, the air
That’s how she pulls you unaware
(Chorus)
Feline on the runway, slow and clean
Liquid spine, dangerous grace between
She don’t beg, she don’t bite fast
She lets you want her—lets it last
Feline on the runway, eyes say more
Than any body’s said before
Elegance with teeth beneath
She moves like hunger dressed in silk
(Bridge) (low, hypnotic)
Not wild—trained
Not soft—contained
Luxury wrapped around restraint
She doesn’t need to bare her skin
You feel it crawl when she walks in
(Final Chorus)
Feline on the runway, final look
Every soul already hooked
Grace so sharp it almost hurts
Power purring under couture
Feline—no rush, no chase
Just instinct moving through space
When she turns, the night exhales
That’s not a walk—
That’s a spell.
BLACKLARK
