[melodic intro]
Burn the ledger, break the chain
No more gods made out of gain
Ticker tape rains like acid sleet
While brokers cry designer seats
[Hard punchy kick up]
Broke the system, and we can't go back
Hoping Blackrock has a heart attack
Now all the shooters are in the street
Gonna party like it's twenty-three-three
[ending in a scream over regular vocals]
And we’re screaming through the static
While they sip gold from the attic
But the signal’s loud and free—
“Crying’s not a crime to me!”
Now Blackrock owns the street
And they
Send you fees for your own heartbeat
And when they
Come to take you down
Then they
Mark you up just to make you frown
And then they'll
Come to take all that you own
And they're
Coming for your mind and soul
And when you
Go to grovel at their feet
All they
Gonna give you is a broke dog treat
Digital chains and invisible cops
Surveillance dreams in Photoshop
They sell you hope with a side of debt
And laugh while you're choking on regret
We lit a match to Wall Street’s pride
Tore their logos from the sky
We are the rats, we are the flame
No more puppets in their game
[pulls back into the melody again before the breakdown]
They live in the tower
Drunk going on all the power
And they can’t hear the people scream
But they’ll hear our fists in sync
When we, break down the door
They won’t want no more
Soon the reaper they will meet
When we party like it’s twenty-three-three
[Breakdown][pulls back the screams over the melodic voice]
No gods, no gold, no kings
Just kids with fire and strings
They sold the world and bought the lie
We'll sell the silence back with cries
We are the scars they tried to hide
The ghost notes in the lullabies
We bled in time, we bit our tongues
But now we scream with shattered lungs
No thrones, no chains, no deal
Just truth too loud to steal
We are the ink they tried to drain
But we won't leave the world in pain
So light the match, tear down the wall
Let the empire learn to crawl
When every heart begins to sing-
No gods, no gold, no kings!
No gods, no gold, no kings!
No gods, no gold, no kings!
No gods, no gold, no kings!
No gods, no gold, no kings!
Yeah, Blackrock owns the street
But we
Take it back with boots and beat
And when they
Come to take us down
We’ll be
Laughing as we torch this town
And when they
Come to take all that we own
We’ll be
Holding up our broken bones
And when we
Dance atop their ivory seat—
We'll be
Spitting out their dog-treat deceit
[Outro - Gang Vocals, Fading With Static]
Twenty-three-three—burn it down with me
Twenty-three-three— we are free
Twenty-three-three—no debt, no leash
Twenty-three-three—just rage and peace
