Hey Funky... you feel that bass in ya bones, huh?

Slap the street with the soul of chrome

Grime in the lungs, fire in the tone

Let it ride, let it ride...

Ride dirty on a backbeat ghost,

808 drag like a chain-smoke toast,

Chrome grill grin with a dream half-dead,

Streetlight halo, neon red.

Swang in the whip like a glitch in time,

Syrup in the snare, got the bounce off-line,

Metal in the mix, got the wires all fried,

Talkbox preach, "Let the bass baptize!"

🎵 Hey Funky — drag it through the dirt

🎵 Slide with the static, make the system hurt

🎵 Hey Funky — grind it 'til it burst

🎵 Drip black magic, bassline curse

🎵 Hey Funky — spin it from the void

🎵 Tape hiss prayers that the gods destroyed

🎵 Hey Funky — bang that beat

🎵 Down in the dark where the weirdos meet

Midnight preacher in a bass cocoon,

Vinyl warped and the phase in tune,

Funk cracked open like a skull in bloom,

Drums speak tongues in a metal monsoon.

Swing that beat like a sacred knife,

Afro code in a digital strife,

Glide through realms in the glitch parade,

Trap drums dance where the shadows fade.

Ghosts in the mix, and they talk like this

Clicks in the kick, got the gods in a twist

Dark rave hymns in the pulse of the street

Gutter-born choir in a bass drum beat

🎵 Hey Funky — tear that floor!

🎵 Glide with the grave and knock the core

🎵 Hey Funky — call the swarm

🎵 Phonked-out freaks in electric form

🎵 Hey Funky — rise from ruin

🎵 Drums like riots and the sky’s still bruisin’

🎵 Hey Funky — make 'em sweat

🎵 Bassline beast ain’t done just yet

Let the static sing...

Hey... Funky...

We don’t dance — we manifest.

We don’t move — we possess.

Let me know if you want a beat-ready version with ad-lib cues, or a visual lyric video aesthetic breakdown (fonts, textures, glitch overlays, etc).