[Verse 1] Hudson & 3rd, busted soles on wet pavement, Park-bench whispers, porchlight deals, cheap thrills in our hands. Dash-light flicker, gum-stuck rhythms, rooftop knocks and corner chants, Nick cracks a grin, J-Gone keeps watch — we learned to hustle plans. Zack bit my face that night — laugh, bruise, a story I replay, Kevin's lighter clicked a steady beat, voicemail laughs on replay. In our studio apartment, in the closet, making mixtapes with a ten-dollar mic, Static spit, late-night prayer — we burned the room and liked the strike. [Pre-Chorus ] Beat drops — names cut clean through hoodlight and hum, I fold apologies like old tapes, press 'em to my chest until they come. [Chorus — Hard Hook] Blackstoners — closet shows, ten-dollar mic — we ride! (ride!) Blackstoners — closet-made, loud and raw — we ride! (ride!) Say the names, feel the flame — J-Gone, Nick, Zack, Kev — we ride! (we ride!) Blackstoners forever — closet nights, city lights — we ride! (ride! ride!) [Verse 2 — Double-Time Buildup] Fast-lace cadence, spit-snap, Zack hums hooks like a hymn on loop, We pass the mic like flashlights, stoop to stoop, concrete troop. Phone screens dim, seasons flip, mixtape hiss became our proof, Car trunks, payphones, corners named — cheap roofs and louder truths. We traded heat and handshakes, scraped pride for louder laughs, Crossed lines, mended cuts, rewound the nights to stitch the halves. I still flip that cassette, crackle chorus bringing nights alive, Wish we had a camera to record it all — MTV would've bought those rights. [Pre-Chorus — Variation] Low hum, bass breathes, city choir — tape spool sings its lines, When the drop hits, midnight names ring out like car-park chimes. [Bridge ] I dial your number — it rings into the dark, a ghostly tone, Drive past our old block, blue paint flaking off the stoop we owned. I park, I breathe, I open up the closet door — the mixtape knocks, Press play, Kev's laugh hits my chest, J-Gone's bar lands like a rock. I call the crew back into the night — one last round, one last look, Fold the past into a verse, stitch the nights back into books. [Final Chorus — Variation / Full Energy] Blackstoners — closet-made, raw and loud — we ride! (call: ride!) MTV would've paid those rights — ten-dollar mic, no frills — we ride! (reply: ride!) Blackstoners — closet shows, stream the nights we stole and sold — we ride! (shout: ride!) J-Gone, Nick, Zack, Kev — forever loud, forever told — we ride! (one more time: ride!) [Outro — Chant / Call & Response] (Leader) Blackstoners! (Crowd) We ride! (Leader) J-Gone! (Crowd) We ride! (Leader) Nick! (Crowd) We ride! (Leader) Zack! (Crowd) We ride! (Leader) Kevin — RIP! (Crowd) Forever ride! [Performance & Production Notes] - Bite line placement: deliver “Zack bit my face that night — laugh, bruise, a story I replay” slightly behind the beat (pull it back a 16th) to give emotional weight without gore. - Hook delivery: punch the downbeat on “ride!” — compress syllables for