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Nightfall Kings: Neon Cypher 2 by Desilo

SongGPT
Nightfall Kings: Neon Cypher 2 by Desilo - trap music cover art

Nightfall Kings: Neon Cypher 2

trap

0:003:01
Lyrics
Description
bass drops heavy, lights flicker — chrome and neon bleed,
city pulse like a war drum: velvet suits, cocaine speed.
patron bottles glint—hennessy, patron, grey goose on ice,
cue chalk on fingers, pool balls click — snap, clack, cold dice.
welcome to the kingdom where the wealthy wolves dine,
rich street gangsters in a nightclub throne, kingpin design.
(spoken, cinematic): "lock the doors — tonight we eat the skyline."
yo — blade step in, wrist iced, rolex freeze the time,
sippin' patron, letting bottles fall like a war crime.
glass smacks felt — cue chalk dust in the air,
girls in louboutin heels, spit-sip, lean back, stare.
clip jingles like a necklace — bullet casings kiss the floor,
glock under the jacket, safe by the locker door.
money raining, tear the pool rack — eight ball kiss the light,
i’m the cold motherfucker who bought the bar tonight.
kids muffled by velvet, servers hustle with a grin,
i sign names on napkins — contracts soaked in sin.
say my name like currency — damon blade, the vault,
i fuckin' run the night, no apologies, no fault.
we kings of the night — bottles up, lights down low, (we kings)
drunk on the vibe — let the neon motherfuckers glow. (let 'em glow)
guns heavy, bands heavy — dollar signs tattooed on spine,
we roll deep, club’s ours — through the haze we align.
lead: "nightfall kings!" / response: "nightfall kings!"
lead: "bottle to the lip!" / response: "bottle to the lip!"
crack the skyline with a screaming fender — riffs hit like lead,
jax slam the stage, spit-fire riffs, watch them drop dead.
leather jacket, black nail polish, whiskey branded — jameson burn,
pool cue like a tomahawk — break the rack, make 'em learn.
girls scream, hair flips — they grind, they curse, they plead,
i rip the chorus out of silence, distortion makes 'em bleed.
shot glass shattered, sequin blood on the floor,
power chords cut souls — crowd begs, "more!" more! more!
i’m razor — slice the facade, rip the velvet seam,
this is gangster opera — guitars taste like gasoline.
dark velvet nights, my suit pressed like a tombstone fold,
marcus slides in,