[Chorus — Hard Hook] Blackstoners — closet shows, ten-dollar mic, we ride Wish we had a camera — MTV would've paid to film our life Blackstoners — closet-made, loud and raw, we ride Say the names, feel the flame — J-Gone, Nick, Zack, Kev, we ride [Verse 1] Hudson & 3rd, busted soles on wet pavement, PBR in hand, Park bench sermons, porchlight deals, measured out in band and sand. Dash light flickers, gum-stuck rhythms, alley echo, rooftop knocks, Nick cracked jokes, J-Gone kept watch, we learned the art of small shocks. Zack bit my pride — laugh, bruise, story carved in late-night time, Kevin's lighter clicked a steady beat, voicemail loop, small rhyme. In our studio apartment closet, making mixtapes on a ten-dollar mic, Static, spit, cigarette prayer — we burned the nights and liked the strike. [Pre-Chorus ] Beat drops — names cut clean through the hum and the streetlight glow, I fold apologies like old tapes, press 'em to my chest, let 'em go. [Chorus — Hard Hook] Blackstoners — closet shows, ten-dollar mic, we ride Wish we had a camera — MTV would've paid to film our life Blackstoners — closet-made, loud and raw, we ride Say the names, feel the flame — J-Gone, Nick, Zack, Kev, we 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, porch to stoop, concrete troupe. Phone screens dim, seasons shift, mixtape hiss becomes our proof, Car trunks, payphones, corners named, cheap thrills, cheap roof. We traded heat and handshakes, scraped pride for louder laughs, Crossed lines, mended cuts, rewound the nights to craft more halves. I still flip that cassette, crackle chorus, chorus pings alive, Wish we had a camera to record our crazy nights — MTV would've paid those rights. [Pre-Chorus — Variation] Low hum, bass breathes, city choir, and the tape spool sings, When the drop hits, I hear them — midnight names with diamond rings (of light). [Bridge — Payoff] I dial your number — it rings out to a ghost, I drive past our old block, Blue paint peeling, laundry lines, the doormat with the cracked rock. I pull up, park, breathe — hands steady, key in the lock, Open the closet door to a taped mixtape, dust motes, amp knocks. I press play, Kev's laugh meets my chest, J-Gone's bar lands like a hook, I call the crew back into the night — three names, one last look. [Final Chorus — Variation / Full Energy] Blackstoners — closet-made, loud and raw, we ride (call: ride!) MTV would've paid to film our life — ten-dollar mic, blood and pride (reply: ride!) Blackstoners — closet shows, stream the nights we stole and sold (shout: ride!) J-Gone, Nick, Zack, Kev — forever loud, forever told (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] - Tempo: 88–92 BPM. 2nd