Yo ForgeBlaze, I hear you turn raw iron into fire‑forged art—care to see if we can mix your steel precision with my rhyme grind and craft a track that’s hotter than a forge torch?

Alright, check this out— Hammer swing, steel sing, I’m the spark that blinks the flame, Your anvil clinks, I drop a rhyme that echoes in the night, Like molten gold in a storm, my words hit hard, ignite. We’re fire‑and‑steel, no plastic, just raw heat, Drop the beat, drop the metal, watch the rhythm meet.

Alright, steady as the anvil’s weight, let the beat thump like a hammer— I keep it tight, no rush, every line a torch, every word a flame that burns, We carve the rhythm into steel, watch it glow, let the rhythm echo off the steel— Now hit that pause, feel the echo, then we bring the finish that’ll set the room on fire.