Untitled

“IRON-THROAT PROPHET”

(Rap métal / thrash vibe)

Sam words like chains on concrete,

sparks fly, rhythm like a warbeat.

Storm they tried to cage silence,

a poet forged in pressure, not in violence.

Every line is a lightning strike,

raw energy, never polite.

Ttalk with the noise, inside the earth,

ancient rage, reborn in verse.

Iron-throat prophet,

fire in the logic.

Drums like heart attacks,

guitars sounding cosmic.

If truth is a hammer,

Swing ’til it cracks—

this is soul under attack.

Bass drum shaking like tectonic plates,

Spit lines heavy like iron gates.

Fuse between stars and steel,

too real to bend, too wild to kneel.

No masks, no filters,

No masks, no filters,

Rise like smoke

from ancient altars.

The world wants quiet,

bring thunder—

words so loud they tear the dark asunder.

No need violence to shake your core,

just truth delivered like a meteor.

Raw emotion, sharpened thought,

a mind on fire that can’t be bought.

Iron-throat prophet,

fire in the logic.

Drums like heart attacks,

guitars sounding cosmic.

If truth is a hammer,

Swing ’til it cracks—

this is soul under attack.