Música creada con IA
My song
Creada por Haku
Progressive math rock as the dominant stylefused with dark trap metal and experimental glitch hop. Virtuosic fingerstyle electric guitarglassy tapped lead linesand traditional koto trade intricate syncopated motifs over percussive slap-thump bassglitch-hop drum programmingand sliding 808 sub-bass. Young male vocals move from atmospheric whispers and soft clean singing to lightly raspy distortion and gradually intensifying harsh screamssupported by wide stereo harmonies. Build from sparsetense passages into increasingly forceful polyrhythmic sectionsculminating in a dense final dropthen resolve into an ambient drone with a fading koto note. Ultra-clean modern studio mix with precise transient detaildeep low endand spacious stereo depth.
Escucha la canción completa1:30
Letra
[Verse 1] Step left, it’s a decoy, step right and it slips. Dead center is a sinkhole with nothing on the lips. No opening, no finish line, nothing in frame, Just a long line of faces all learning the same game. [Pre-Chorus] The first ones get marked up, The next ones get sized, The third ones move faster And the first ones get sidelined. [Chorus] Get off that route, quit checking your reflection, Pick your own street, make your own direction. Take the misses, the stumbles, the dents in the ride, That road is a choice, not a door you just glide through blind. Don’t chase the wall, don’t cling to the hook, Don’t camp in the cracks, don’t wait to be booked. Skip the sweet talk, the polish, the spin, Your path is a fight, and you’re already in. [Verse 2] No start, no finish, no edges in sight, Just that same conveyor of faces at night. The first ones are targets! The second ones prize! The third ones slip through, And the first ones go down. Not the worst road out there, but it still has teeth, A clean-looking setup with trouble underneath. Someone up top is calling the names, drawing lines, Today it’s you, tomorrow it’s me, same room, same signs. [Pre-Chorus] One falls back, another moves on; Round after round till the crowd feels worn. Maybe somebody got through untagged, Or maybe their turn just hasn’t come yet. [Chorus] Get off that route, quit checking your reflection, Pick your own street, make your own direction. Take the misses, the stumbles, the dents in the ride, That road is a choice, not a door you just glide through blind. Don’t chase the wall, don’t cling to the hook, Don’t camp in the cracks, don’t wait to be booked. Skip the sweet talk, the polish, the spin, Your path is a fight, and you’re already in. [Bridge] No prize in the center, no halo there, Just a spot on the board and a lot of cold air. If they line you up, let them see you move, Let them hear the boots, let them lose their groove. [Final Chorus] The first ones are targets! The second ones prize! The third ones slip through, And the first ones go down. Get off that route, quit checking your reflection, Pick your own street, make your own direction. Take the misses, the stumbles, the dents in the ride, That road is a choice, not a door you just glide through blind. Don’t chase the wall, don’t cling to the hook, Don’t camp in the cracks, don’t wait to be booked. Skip the sweet talk, the polish, the spin, Your path is a fight, and you’re already in. [Outro] Go down. Down.